


Sanctuary for the Strangers

by YUUdeparallel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Elf, F/M, Goblins, Independent!Harry, M/M, Multiple mates, Nymphs - Freeform, Shadow Daemon, Third Side, Vampires, Veela, Werewolves, creature!fic, other creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 102,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2666384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YUUdeparallel/pseuds/YUUdeparallel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new faction of war is arising, promising hope and protection for those under its shelter – Harry Potter engages his own war with new comrades and allies. Post OotP, Creature! fic. Independent Harry. Slightly Manipulative Dumbledore. Slash, HP/SS/DM/LM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unusual Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally figured out what tags to add and post this fanfic to AO3... Can also be found on FFnet.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and OCs. Post OotP, generally disregards HBP and DH (some critical scenes remain). Characters can be somewhat OOC because this is how I envision them to be in my mind...
> 
> Warning: This is a creature!fic and slash fic. Pairing SS/LM/DM/HP, multiple mates, nothing graphic but general fluffiness to come.

Sirius was dead.

It was all his fault. If he had been more critical of the situation, none of the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries would have happened.

Why did he have to be so impulsive? If only he had thought longer and harder… _if only_. What good was “if only” when nothing he did now can bring Sirius back? He haven’t even learnt much about his godfather, for Merlin’s sake, he didn’t even had a chance to have alone time with his godfather!

Harry Potter lay on his bed back in Privet Drive, flooded by his guilt that has yet to cease a month after the incident. He had few people to look upon as father figures in life; and with this blunder that cost Sirius’ life, he doubted that he could even look at Remus in the face again.

He knew that Remus and Sirius were close friends, not in a sexual manner – he had once suspected but proven wrong –, but they were the last of the Marauders. And to know that the son of James had led to Sirius’ end… he didn’t know if Remus could take it.

He had tried to blame it on Snape, but he knew that it wasn’t the man’s fault at all; the man had tried to stop him but he didn’t listen anyway. For once, he wished that he had taken Snape’s advice but no, he just had to mess it all up.

The thought of the man led to conflicted emotions. On one hand, he hated Snape for belittling him and making his life miserable in class. On the other hand, he understood perfectly why the man had done so – it took little effort to understand the feelings of a bullied victim, after all, he had been one and, in some aspects, still is one.

Merlin, even he himself had hated his father and Sirius for being such a bully in school when he watched the pensive memories! It wasn’t just friendly rivalry or pranking, it was utter humiliation. To think that he once admired his father and all…

Yes, that hurt the most. Knowing that his father, the appraised Gryffindor, was nothing but a bully in school, and worse, his father had basked in the glory of it, not knowing how horrible it was to be on the receiving end. Everybody spoke of James Potter as some sort of epitome of Gryffindor, brave and self-sacrificing, humourous and intelligent; why had no one tell him what he was actually like in school?

“A true Gryffindor, eh?” Harry smiled bitterly as he fingered the photo album he had hidden under his bed – he had managed to salvage his stuff before Uncle Vernon attempted to lock it in the cupboard.

Sirius was so much like his father – at least what little he knew of James, fun-loving and energetic, but he couldn’t get over his childish rivalry with Snape, even after enduring twelve years in Azkaban. And Remus, he was supposed to be the level-headed one! Of course, he was courteous towards Snape and everyone else, but he did nothing to stop the Sirius from his unfounded hatred.

He had debated the thought of writing a letter of apology to Snape, about his own mistakes over the past five years and on behalf of his father and Sirius. However, knowing the man, he would probably think that it was some prank or joke and sneer at whatever was in the letter. If he wanted to get the message across, he’d probably have to do it personally face-to-face – if his courage didn’t falter after seeing the man, that is.

Speaking of letters, his mood inevitably turned dark. He had not received any letters from his friends since the holidays started, well, not counting the one he got from Hermione two days into the holidays stating that they would give him his privacy and time to grief for Sirius. His guess was that Dumbledore had told them that he needed time to himself, and probably, that it was too dangerous to risk their letters being intercepted. At least that was the reason he was told to leave a very unhappy Hedwig with the Weasleys.

Privacy? Harry snorted in disbelief. When had that ever mattered between the three of them? They were best friends, if they aren’t supposed to talk and share, what bloody else are they supposed to do?

He was desperate to talk to someone, someone who wouldn’t mind listening to him ranting about all these thoughts, someone who could guide him, tell him what was wrong with his life!

He had read all his textbooks in attempt to escape his overwhelming emotions – but it just didn’t work! He read those texts so thoroughly he could even remember all those bloody potions ingredients in the encyclopaedia he took from Grimmauld Place in a fit of impulsivity. But once his mind wasn’t occupied with those texts, everything simply washed over him.

His nightmares were getting worse – he kept seeing Sirius falling through the veil again and again, the look of complete shock frozen on his face. And he heard voices – his father’s, his mother’s, Sirius, Cedric, and everyone else – whispering to him, moaning about the unfairness of life, reprimanding him for his role in their deaths.

_If only you died. If only you weren’t born._

He can still remember the unusual hardness and chill of the tone his father and mother used. It sent him screaming awake, shuddering in fear and weariness, and unfortunately woke everyone else in the house – he kept stubbornly quiet when Uncle Vernon had hit him, but he couldn’t stop shuddering when the words Uncle Vernon spewed coincided with his nightmares.

_Freak. Unworthy. It was better if you were never here._

He looked at the clock. 11.58 pm. Two minutes to his birthday.

He doubted that his presents would be here. Since Dumbledore deemed it unsafe to send letters, presents and parcels are unlikely to come through as well – even Mrs. Weasley’s care package wasn’t here.

Well, it wasn’t as if there was much to celebrate anyway. His birthday marked the reason for the death of his parents.

As much as he loathed to admit, Sirius’ death was a damn strong wake-up call. He was forced to think about a lot of things over the past month: his parents’ death, the prophecy, Dumbledore, his friends, Sirius, Remus, the Wizarding World, the Ministry. He wondered just how much information was being kept away from him? The prophecy was surely something that he should have known of, but no, Dumbledore only saw fit to tell him after the whole Ministry debacle. What else had the headmaster kept to himself?

And there was the problem of being a Muggle-raised wizard. Everyone expected him to know things just because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but how in Merlin’s beard was he supposed to know anything at all, when he was no different from a Muggleborn?

The clock struck twelve, and Harry quirked a brow, “Well, Happy Birthday to m- wha…umph!”

It started as a tingling sensation on his back, and escalated quickly from there. He was no stranger to pain, but this was _different_. It was the familiar feeling of magic coursing through his body, but it was rough and raw, burning through his skin, threatening to tear out of his skin.

He fell to the ground, and desperately tried to muffle his screams by biting on the back of his hand – it would do no good to rouse the Dursleys now.

His ears were on fire; his spine felt as though it was twisting; his back was seared. Magic was running through every inch of his body, and wherever it passed, it left a sensation of rawness, as if his skin had been brutally ripped off and hot water plunged onto exposed flesh.

It was an _inferno_.

He couldn’t even bring himself to scream out loud at this point, the heat and pain consumed his consciousness, and he could only _feel_. He curled tightly into himself, frantically grabbing his forearms to assure himself that his limbs were still intact.

_Am I dying?_

When he finally came back into his senses, he glanced at the clock, only to realise that it was only 12.30 am, instead of hours that he had thought it was.

Grabbing onto the bedstand, he pulled himself from the ground, managing to stagger to his bed before his legs gave out. He was sore and aching all over, but his back, especially, was feeling the worst. With a sudden realisation, he found that he could see things clearly when his glasses were left on the floor – probably knocked off when he was writhing in pain.

But before he could contemplate any other changes, there was a tap at the window.

A regal eagle owl stared at him through the window, tapping the glass impatiently as Harry made no move to open the barriers to its delivery.

He staggered a few steps toward the window and finally managed to open it after fumbling with the latch for a few moments. The owl landed on his shoulders and stretched out its feet, looking expectantly at its recipient.

Had his friends managed to send him letters after all?

Harry was confused as he relieved the owl of its duty, turning the fine parchment over, only to see it sealed with the Gringotts seal. Seeing that the owl had no intention of leaving yet, he fished out a few dry crackers from his secret stash and offered it to the owl. With a close examination of the crackers on his palm, it nibbled a few crumbles before leaping off his shoulder to land on the bedstand.

Harry shrugged; it was probably instructed to wait for a reply – whatever the matter was.

Unrolling the parchment and reading swiftly across the lines – the only other fortunate outcome of reading his textbooks and stuff was an improved speed reading skill – Harry quirked a brow as he comprehended the implications of the message.

> _Lord Harry James Potter-Black (inheritance yet to be confirmed and received),_
> 
> _It has come to our attention that Sirius Black has indicated you as the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black in his will, and with the execution of this will, we would also like to draw your attention towards receiving your inheritance from the Ancient and Noble House of Potter._
> 
> _An inheritance ritual is required to further confirm your eligibility to other fortunes by conquer and magical choice. We seek your attendance with us as soon as possible to settle all matters as stated above. Please reply with a suitable date and time for an appointment._
> 
> _Gringotts Manager,_
> 
> _Ragnok._

Potter… Black. Sirius had named him as the Black heir? He didn’t… but he didn’t deserve it! He hadn’t done anything to deserve Sirius’ affection, he condemned the man to his death – how could Sirius have…? There weren’t any signs or indication at all, that Sirius chose to leave everything with him. But then again, his contact with Sirius was extremely limited, with Sirius cooped up in Grimmauld Place and him trying to survive the hell that was Umbridge at Hogwarts…

Harry sighed deeply. Perhaps it was time for him to try and figure out what was going on around him. He had delayed this long enough, Merlin, he hadn’t even realise that he would have to take up the responsibility of Lord Potter alone, not to mention _Lord Potter-Black_ now.

He pulled a piece of blank parchment from under his bed and settled to write a reply. While he pondered about the words to write, he started petting the owl – now perching onto his table beside his inkwell – absentmindedly, earning an affectionate preening from the owl.

“Hey there, would you mind carrying another letter for me to Flourish and Blotts?” He ruffled its feathers gently, “I know your duty was to get a reply from me to Gringotts, but Hedwig isn’t here with me now…” His voice faltered.

That was one of the reason he felt especially dreadful this summer. Hedwig was his only friend and talking companion when he was locked up in the room, she couldn’t reply back but she could always offer comfort. Sometimes he even felt that she understood his every word perfectly, her soulful eyes staring at him with empathy and affection, perching onto his shoulders and preening his hair when he felt emotionally vulnerable.

A sharp nip to his fingers snapped him out of his thoughts. The owl stared at him disapprovingly, and nipped his fingers again, softer this time, while hooting quietly.

“Is that a yes?” Watching the owl give an affirmative hoot, Harry petted it on its head and gave a small smile, “Then I better start writing now, shouldn’t I? Just give me a moment.”

Twirling the quill between his fingers, he paused for a few seconds before writing.

> _Honourable Ragnok,_
> 
> _May your gold always flow and your enemies suffer in agony._
> 
> _I would like to set up an appointment on 4 th August, preferably in the morning. I would appreciate it if a mode of transportation to Gringotts could be arranged._
> 
> _I await your response,_
> 
> _Harry James Potter-Black._

He read the letter again and paused – where did that line of greeting come from? He had written it by pure intuition, but it sounded alright. _Almost too right_.

He shrugged it off again as he pulled yet another piece of blank parchment to pen a note to Flourish and Blotts.

> _Dear sir,_
> 
> _I find myself in need of books on Wizarding etiquette as I am about to assume the position of Family Head. I trust your favourable reputation in the sale of magical books and your judgement of books to best fit customers’ needs._
> 
> _Please send me your recommended books, or list of books, on the requested topic, and I will arrange for the required funds to be handled. Your promptness is most appreciated._
> 
> _May Her blessings be endowed upon you,_
> 
> _Harry James Potter._

He stared at the finished note – just where did that blessing stemmed from? It was confusing, he had no idea where and when had he encountered it, but it felt almost natural, and most logical. Oh well, it sounded fine, he supposed.

After addressing the recipients onto the sealed scrolls, he tied it gently to the owls’ leg. “Bring this to the manager of Flourish and Blotts, and this to Ragnok, would you?”

The owl nipped his fingers once more before taking flight into the night sky, disappearing into the darkness.

Harry kept away his writing equipment tiredly and lay back onto his bed; it was a hell of a night. Picking up the mirror that Sirius gave to him but never had a chance to use; he stared at his reflection in utter shock.

His face was the same alright, although his facial features seemed to be finer than it usually was – or was that an effect of him losing his appetite? But his ears were slightly elongated and pointed, and his eyes had an almost ethereal glow to it, and his hair, now that he had realised it, grew beyond his shoulders, ending just beneath his lower back.

He jumped to his feet, almost forgetting the soreness of his muscles until he grimaced with the movement, and stared at the mirror in his room. It seemed as though there wasn’t a change in height – was a little growth spurt too much to hope for now? – but there was a slight difference in his complexion, his skin looks a little fairer now, which incidentally seem to make his bruises and scars stand out.

Curious about the burning sensation on his back earlier, he pulled off his oversized T-shirt as he turned to look at his back in the mirror.

A tattoo. _A bloody tattoo_?

The tattoo extended from his shoulder bones down to his hips, spanning across his entire back, filling it with green markings joined with golden swirls. It looked like twigs entwined, like flames blazing, like a river flowing, as if it was fluid and changing.

What was this? Nobody talked about transforming and growing tattoos on their sixteenth birthday! Or was this some sort of joke?

Sifting through all information he had read from his textbooks and a few other books he had taken from Grimmauld Place, and after a few internal struggles, he came to a belated conclusion that he probably had some sort of dormant elf blood in his family, but so little was known about elves! And why wasn’t he told that he had elf blood somewhere inside of him?

_Calm down, Harry. Think, what to do now? I can’t let the Dursleys see this…_

He dug out a book on charms and desperately hoped that he wouldn’t be tried again for using underage magic… He would come up with an excuse when it comes to that; he just needed to find that glamour charm he had seen a few days before right now.

Flipping through the pages quickly, he found the desired charm and studied it for a while. Grabbing his wand, he practiced the wand movements a few times, before quietly muttering the incantation while picturing what he used to look like – not that it was that difficult.

What caught him by surprise was the swiftness and readiness that his magic had responded to his wishes, he could almost feel the magic surging from his core eagerly to meet his needs, channelling through his wand smoothly – it usually required a little push or force before – it felt so soothing.

Feeling the magic settle on his face and back, he anxiously turned to look at the mirror, satisfied to find his old self looking back rather meekly.

He stashed all his items back under his bed as he awaited the dreaded letter from the Ministry – until he realised that no letters were coming after two hours of sitting stoically on his bed. Reclining back, he sighed and decided to leave it as that.


	2. Unexpected Changes

Harry awoke to a tapping sound on his window pane the next morning. Blinking blearily, he turned towards the window, only to find two owls waiting impatiently outside. One of them was the eagle owl he had seen the night before, but the other was an unfamiliar owl.

He could feel all blood draining from his face – had the Ministry letter arrived to tell him that he was expelled from school?

Opening the window to allow both birds to fly into his room, he had to duck as the unfamiliar owl flew above his head across the room, causing some of his stuff perched on top of the tiny wardrobe to topple down.

“What is that noise, boy?! You better not be doing freakish things up there!” He flinched as he heard Uncle Vernon bellowing from downstairs.

Leaning against the door, he called back a reply with utmost effort to make it sound sincere, “I- I’m sorry, I fell over!”

“Come down and make breakfast in ten minutes, boy! And you better not wake Dudley up with any more ruckuses!”

He released a breath he wasn’t aware of holding as Uncle Vernon decided not to come up and “discipline” him as he saw fit. Staring at the owl reproachfully, he protested lightly, “Couldn’t you come in a little more quietly? I’ll be in real danger if you make any more noise, you know… Not to mention what he’ll do when he sees owls in my room…”

Relieving both owls of their load, he missed the swipe the eagle owl gave the other as he studied the seals on both letters. Realising that they were replies from Gringotts and Flourish and Blotts, Harry instantly relaxed. At least it wasn’t the Ministry. Maybe they didn’t realise that he used magic? After the incident in the Department of Mysteries, they might be still caught up with damage-control? Well, he could always hope.

Ripping open the seal on the Gringotts letter, he was glad to find that a portkey was provided.

> _Lord Harry James Potter-Black,_
> 
> _May your honour be upheld, and your enemies fall to your feet. The Goblin Nation is honoured to serve one that follows the Old ways. May we further our acquaintance on the day we meet._
> 
> _In this letter we include a 2-way portkey that is set to activate on 9am, 4 th August to Gringotts, and activated again by the keyword “remigro” to your point of departure._
> 
> _We await your attendance in most delightful pleasure._
> 
> _Gringotts Manager,_
> 
> _Overlord Ragnok Silvertooth._

Harry raised a brow as he pondered upon the tone of the letter. The Old ways? So the greeting that he had invoked unknowingly in the last letter was of the Old? He remembered one of the purebloods muttering about the Old ways in Hogwarts the year before, but he had no idea what it was. And now he had to figure out how he managed to write that out on the last letter, when the Goblins apparently expected something similar from him during the appointment to come.

_Great, just great, Harry Potter, you’ve just managed to make things more complicated._

Sighing softly, he left the letter on the table and turned to open the other letter.  Instead of a book list he expected, a round disk was placed within the rolled parchment, which he nearly dropped as he unrolled the letter to read.

> _Lord Harry James Potter,_
> 
> _I would be delighted to be of service, and truly appreciate your trust in our reputation. I have selected 8 books for your reference regarding wizarding etiquette and the roles of a Lord, and 2 books on wizarding politics, as I believe that the Potters hold seats in the Wizengamot._
> 
> _The mentioned books are included in the portium attached to this letter. To retrieve the books, simply place the portium on a surface and tap it three times with your wand. If you are satisfied with the books, please sign your name below and it would transfer to our contract and allow us to retrieve the funds from Gringotts. It is a rare, but nonetheless standard procedure of owl-order._
> 
> _If you require further assistance for any books, please do not hesitate to owl us._
> 
> _May our gratitude shine upon you as Her blessings do._
> 
> _Flourish and Blotts Supervisory Manager,_
> 
> _Malcolm Ivan Flopsav._

Harry placed the round disk on the desk, that seemed to be the portium mentioned, after keeping the Gringotts letter away, and tapped the disk lightly three times.

A stack of books appeared immediately beside the portium. He flipped through the first few books, and found them informative yet concise, without the flowery descriptive language that he had expected to read. Maybe his desperation was somehow detected from his letter sent? Well, he could speed read, but deciphering long and half-of-the-words-flowery-and-probably-meaningless sentences required so much more effort.

Realising that he had yet to offer the owls something to eat, he rummaged through his stash to pull out another few crackers before extending it apologetically, “I’m sorry, this is all I have now.”

The eagle owl from before nibbled on the crackers immediately, while the other stared at the offered crackers disdainfully before taking a nip as the eagle owl nudged it forcefully.

Pulling the letter from Flourish and Blotts back towards him, Harry signed his name in the space below the parchment, only to see it shimmer brightly as a sign of acceptance. Grabbing a spare piece of parchment, he scribbled another note, deciding that he might as well just get the books on magical creatures and elves to read before his Gringotts trip.

_Just in case it triggers some unknown reaction with the inheritance ritual… Knowing my luck, something’s about to muck up then._

After attaching the portium to the short note, he tied the letter onto the owl’s leg before watching it take off out from the window. Turning back, he found the eagle owl watching him intently from its perch on the chair.

“Hey there, are you going off soon? I could bring you something else later if you’re not leaving now,” Harry offered, planning to steal a few pieces of bacon off Dudley’s breakfast.

_Well, I’m the one who’s doing the cooking, anyway._

The owl looked at him for a few moments, before bobbing its head twice and tucking its head under its wing, showing that it’s not moving anytime soon.

Humming quietly as he made his way down to the kitchen, he sighed softly. At least he had a little companionship to look forward to now.

* * *

 

**1 st September, Hogwarts Start-of-Term Feast.**

Potter looked different.

Draco Malfoy observed the Gryffindor table discreetly, allowing his gaze to follow Harry Potter’s movements lazily. He had just came into his Veela inheritance over the summer, and he had been quite proficient at controlling his newfound powers, that no one else, save for a few close friends, or allies for that matter, had realised yet. His parents had filed a divorce after he came into inheritance since he is recognised as an adult and no longer required the protection of his parents.

He understood perfectly that his parents were close friends, but never lovers. They married in accordance to the betrothal contract drawn by their parents, and stayed together for his sake – well, at least until his majority. Narcissa still stayed at the Malfoy Manor, but they no longer needed to uphold the appearance of a loving couple. Lucius is a Veela as well, and he has yet to find a mate.

 _And all those people out there keep thinking that fate chooses a Veela’s mate._ Draco snorted softly, _all those romanticised images of a Veela stumbling over his or her mate and falling heads over heels for someone they may not even know… Only idiots would buy into that._

Veelas choose their mates entirely out of personal preference. When they find a potential partner as their Chosen, they start the Courting and the Display, only after being accepted that they consider their partner as their Mate, their Beloved.

Turning his attention back to Potter, he narrowed his eyes in contemplation. Potter is definitely different, not mentioning the glamours on his face and back – wizarding glamours are less effective toward magical beings, while they are unable to see through it, they can sense its presence – although Draco wondered why in Merlin’s beard would someone need to apply glamours on their backs; it was his behaviour that was most different.

The way he walked and held himself was different – he no longer had a slouch, and his movements were swift and silent, his expressions freely shown but the extent to which are well-controlled, and he ate with a grace (especially in contrast with his housemates – how could anyone stand the Weasel, Draco could never understand).

Pansy nudged him gently and whispered, “Potter’s changed… he behaves almost like a pureblood now.”

Draco nodded reluctantly. He didn’t want to admit, but yes, Potter’s behaviour was almost perfect for a pureblood. The changes weren’t obvious, not even half of his housemates would notice the differences, but it was there; and the reason to which he was curious.

“What do you think happened?” Theodore had also observed the changes, and asked in a low murmur, “Did we miss something important?”

Draco narrowed his eyes, Slytherins were always well-informed of the happenings in the Wizarding world – to not know what caused the change was a blow to their reputation.

“He went back to his muggle family after the whole incident at the Department of Mysteries,” Draco provided input.

“Maybe something happened back with his relatives?” Blaise offered.

Pansy shook her head, “Not likely. He’s behaving like a pureblood, I doubt the muggles know a single thing about our customs or etiquette to begin with.”

“Draco, did your father mention anything about the incident?” Theodore looked at him over his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Shaking his head lightly, Draco answered, “Father was most reluctant to share the details of the Dark Lord’s plan for the Ministry raid.”

“I wonder why…” Pansy frowned slightly in consideration.

Draco shrugged, his father had been rather distressed lately, especially after Death Eater meetings. He had frequent late-night discussions with his Godfather, Severus, although Draco was kept away from the contents of their discussions. He was hoping that the proximity of his Father would allow him to be learn of the source of his Father’s distress, especially since he accepted the post of–

“Students, I would like to have your attention please.” Dumbledore’s voice travelled across the dining hall as he started to make his announcements.

“First Years should know that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students – although some of the older years may need a little reminder.”

Draco smirked, _at least the Weasley twin devils are gone now._

“Magic is not permitted along the corridors and a number of items are prohibited from the school grounds – the full list may be checked on Mr. Filch’s office door. Prohibited items will be confiscated and detention served.”

Smiling and turning towards the staff table, the Headmaster’s eyes twinkled merrily, “And I am delighted to introduce Mr. Lucius Malfoy, who will be the new Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Students, let us all welcome Professor Malfoy to Hogwarts!”

Draco glanced over to the Gryffindor Table. As he expected, many of the Gryffindors looked bewildered and disgruntled. He knew that Father would not be entirely welcome when he accepted the Headmaster’s offer to fill in the vacancy. Dumbledore had offered him the job as a gesture of trust when Lucius defected to the Light side, although the Headmaster had requested him to retain his guise as part of Voldemort’s Inner Circle for intelligence purposes. That had infuriated Draco, he knew the dangerous position his Godfather was placed in, and now his own Father had to tread the fine line as well!

The Slytherins’ response was largely neutral, not too assessing but not entirely supportive either. Pansy nudged him again roughly in the ribs, as he followed her gaze back to the Gryffindor Table, he quirked his brow in surprise. Potter had a ghost of smile flickering across his face after he heard the announcement before turning to respond quietly to whatever antics Weasel was rousing.

He had thought that the Golden Boy, of all people, should have the greatest objection towards his Father filling the post. But as the Slytherins continued to watch the Gryffindor Table, they realised that the Saviour of the Wizarding World seemed to be taking the news rather well, it was his housemates, especially Ronald Weasley, who were ranting and raving about it.

 _Interesting_ , the corners of his lips twitched in fascination. _Perhaps it would be worthwhile to continue observing for the time being._

Blaise cocked his head as he looked over the table, “Potter wasn’t especially close to Longbottom last year, was he?”

Pansy nodded but frowned as she saw Potter lean closer to Longbottom and the both of them shared a few words, “They seem awfully friendly now, though.”

Theodore agreed. There seems to be a clear ranking of power within the Gryffindor House – Potter’s bound to be the leader in the House now, if he hadn’t been in that position before, the Seventh Years wouldn’t even stand a chance against him. Then again, the Gryffindors being their extremely dense selves, probably wouldn’t even sense anything different.

“I wonder why Potter wasn’t chosen as prefect this year, though,” Pansy pursed her lips, “I can’t believe Weasley _still_ has the badge.”

Draco silently agreed. Weasley didn’t even take his role as prefect seriously for the entire Fifth Year; although Draco himself admits to not living up to prefect standards the previous year, but he knew that he was acting little stupid and pompous last year, and he’s not about to repeat that and allow that Granger to reprimand him about it, or to bring shame to his Father and family name either.

Blaise stretched his arms gracefully as he mused, “Since Umbridge is gone, Potter’s probably reinstated onto the Quidditch team, isn’t it? Who else would be captain, if not Potter?”

“Good to know that you have such confidence in Potter, then,” Draco replied dryly.

“Seeker rivalry? Oh, Draco, I thought you were better than that,” Pansy teased.

Draco glared at her half-heartedly as a roll of parchment appeared beside his plate. Picking it up gingerly, he stole a glance at the Teacher’s Table before opening it below the table.

> _Draco,_
> 
> _Meet us in my quarters after the Feast. Remain discreet._
> 
> _LM_

Raising his brows as he looked at his Father and Godfather at the Table, he saw his Father nod stiffly at him, his expression solemn. Draco swallowed nervously, that expression always spelled disaster, either he did something wrong, or matters regarding the Dark Lord and Dumbledore went very badly.

“Problems, Draco?” Theodore inquired softly.

He gave an expression of indifference and shrugged slightly. He would know soon enough.

* * *

 

Draco slowly made his way up to the Third Floor. He had thought that the Headmaster would allocate quarters closer to the dungeons, seeing that his Father and Godfather frequently needed to exchange information on their dual status, but it ended being near to nowhere, not even the DADA classrooms.

“Yes? Password?” The man in the portrait on the door glanced briskly from his book to Draco.

Draco stared. His Father had apparently forgotten to give him the password in the hastiness of the message. “Father told me to meet him in his quarters, is he in there?”

“Yes,” The man nodded, “He did mention his son coming to visit.” The portrait eased open as he spoke. “Do remember to provide the password next time though.”

Draco stepped inside only to observe grave silence in the room. His Father and Godfather were both sitting in chairs near the hearth, both solemnly silent.

“Father, Uncle Severus.”

“Ah, Draco, you’ve come.” Lucius nodded at him and snapped his fingers, ordering a house elf to bring another drink forward, “Do sit down. We may have… very serious issues to discuss.”

Cautiously sitting down, Draco wondered what had made both men extremely serious.

“Draco, you do know about the Initiation?” Lucius started mildly.

Draco froze in his seat, panicking inwardly. The Initiation? “The ritual the Dark Lord marks new followers and measures them up to their ranks?”

Lucius nodded once, and continued heavily, “I have tried to stall your Initiation for as long as possible, but the Dark Lord had just issued an ultimatum to me. I’m sorry, son, I had intended to protect you from this fate but…”

Lucius may appear to be cold and distant in public, but Draco understands that his Father loves him dearly, it was just public appearances that he had to uphold to protect the Malfoy reputation, and emotions was seen as a sign of vulnerability between many pureblood families, especially the elitists – or rather, the Dark-inclined families.

“What did Professor Dumbledore say about it?” Draco tried to keep a cool demeanour but he knew that he was failing miserably.

Severus shook his head tiredly, “We have not told the Headmaster about this. Knowing Albus, there is a possibility he may ask you to take on the responsibility of yet another spy in the Dark Lord’s ranks.”

He couldn’t stop himself from paling visibly. He definitely did not want to serve that- that insane self-proclaimed Dark Lord, he saw both his Father and Godfather after Death Eater raids and meetings, the torture and killings that they had to perform and endure… he had no intention of following that life!

“Until when?” his voice faltered.

“Before Yuletide,” Lucius sighed heavily.

“Is there- is there anything we can do to prevent this?”

Lucius and Severus exchanged a look, “I’m really sorry, Draco. Maybe we can work to keep you from most of the raids, but-”

A smart rap at the windows stopped him in mid-sentence. A falcon was hovering at the windows, staring at the three of them expectantly.

Lucius raised a brow upon seeing the bird – a Gyrfalcon? It was a bird of prey commonly associated to royalty and painfully expensive to own, not to mention that they were difficult to tame and train. Focusing his attention on the claws of the falcon, he narrowed his eyes. Sending a letter with a trained Gyrfalcon, the message must be extremely important then.

Opening the windows to allow the Gyrfalcon to fly into the room, it landed on the back of his seat and ruffled its feathers before stretching its leg to offer the letter.

Severus eyebrows furrowed as Lucius detached the letter from the falcon. As he broke the seal, he felt a light wash of magic flow through him, which alerted Severus to draw his wand and glare at the letter, “What was that?”

“Identity charms. If the letter wasn’t intended to me, I wouldn’t want to know what will happen,” Lucius replied, feeling his curiosity peak at the security measures.

“Wha-?” Severus squawked somewhat indignantly as a Golden Eagle soared through the open window and headed straight for him, stretching its leg out towards him as it hovered in the air before him.

Even Draco raised a brow this time, both letters were probably from the same sender, and it was obvious that the sender is rather cautious about letters being intercepted to require an eagle and falcon to send forth – not to mention that both predatory birds were regarded of royal status in the art of falconry.

As Severus broke the seal, he too felt a wave a magic flow unobtrusively through him, confirming his identity as the intended recipient.

Even before reading the letters, they came to a similar conclusion: whoever the sender was, and whatever the missive was about, it must be of utmost importance.


	3. A New Alliance

Lucius opened the letter to read, well aware of his son’s intent gaze on his expression. The elegant script on the scroll caught his eye first, before he delved into the contents of the writing.

> _Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy,_
> 
> _May your path be smooth and hardships few, cum ductu matris magicae._
> 
> _I have learnt of a recent change in allegiances and seek to offer help. While I understand that you may be suspicious of my intentions for this letter – your suspicions are well-grounded – I assure you that I mean no harm. My identity cannot be exposed now for many reasons, one of which is that it may undermine your trust in me. For safety purposes, I have included a few charms on the seal and letter, as well as a different mode of delivery, to minimise possibility of it being intercepted by undesirable hands. If we are to continue exchanges, I would require you to take similar precautions as well – the name I assume in this letter is equivalent to my true identity._
> 
> _The Dark Lord’s reign must be put to an end, he is terrorising Purebloods, Half-bloods, Muggleborns and Muggles alike, a problematic situation I’m certain that you are well aware of. On his venture to “better” the Wizarding World, he has committed many sins, of hypocrisy, of that against innocence, and of utmost vileness. Your change of alliance is delayed, but most understandably due to the need protect your family and the lack of an alternative._
> 
> _Albus Dumbledore is the recognised leader of the Light, his group of soldiers that is the Order of the Phoenix has led several instances of victories for the Light. I understand that you have turned to him for guidance and protection. However, Albus Dumbledore and his Order are unlikely to bring victory over the Dark Lord. They have been largely reactionary, and had not addressed the problems in which the roots of the problems lay. The Wizarding World at whole is kept wilfully ignorant of discrimination and a lack of order in society – a successful ideological control on behalf of the Ministry – and thus signifies the ultimate downfall in general. Even if the Dark Lord is brought to an end by holding on to the hope that the Child of Prophecy miraculously wields enough power to defeat him, it wouldn’t be long before the next Dark Lord rises._
> 
> _The Wizarding World is at fault. They have allowed themselves to become bleating sheep following orders blindly and believing nonsense that the Daily Prophet drivels. Purebloods rejects muggleborns from entering and participating in the Wizarding World, but those whom deserve the contempt are those whom abruptly pull 11-year-old muggleborns into a world void of all their established beliefs and norms, without guidance to the simplest of Wizarding traditions, and left to their own devices. Have most of the purebloods forgotten the teachings of matre magia? It is not blood that dictates power, but magic itself that dictates power. I hope not that you have fallen to this fault._
> 
> _What I am proposing is a Third Side to the war, a Neutral side, a Sanctuary, if you must, that accepts all who hope for a change in the Wizarding World. We have allies, those often overlooked by the Wizarding population, and with it I offer protection, from either the pressures of the Dark Lord, or the manipulations of the Light; it is not required that you contribute to our causes, but refraining from either supporting the Dark, or assisting the manipulations of the Light is appreciated. I am unable to provide more information lest the content be spilled to unwanted ears, if you are inclined to join, tap the letter with your wand twice while reciting the words “We are Strangers to these lands and seek refuge in the Old, Sancta Nosta”. Further correspondence will be provided; but be warned, the gesture is to swear an oath to secrecy, and traitors would suffer in extreme agony._
> 
> _May Her Blessings be endowed upon you,_
> 
> _Si’Ariadw’r._

“Well, that was… quite enlightening,” Lucius mused, seeing that Severus has finished reading his own letter as well, “I assume that you have received the letter from the same person as I have? A Third Side?”

“Indeed, it is rather interesting,” Severus agreed.

Draco frowned, “What were the letters about?” He asked, while eyeing the two birds in the room warily, they were watching the exchange in the room intently, which was giving him quite the creeps.

“It proposes a neutral side to the war, and…” Lucius exchanged a glance with Severus, the most attractive part of the missive was _that_ part, “offers sanctuary to those who do not wish to comply to the orders of the Dark Lord and Dumbledore.”

Draco stilled as he allowed that piece of information to be processed, but couldn’t stop himself from spurting out disbelievingly, “What?”

_This seems almost too good to be true,_ Draco thought bitterly, “So who sent the letter?”

“He – I’m assuming it is a _he_ – prefers to conceal his identity before we make a decision about joining him or not,” Severus replied, _although he may not even reveal himself after that, he certainly didn’t seem willing to expose his identity._

“We have absolutely no idea who is it, then?”

“He is indeed extremely cautious: the eagle and the falcon give us no clue about the sender, the handwriting doesn’t seem familiar, and he even de-scented the parchment and disguised his magical signature,” Lucius’ tone betrayed his look of indifference, “although I wonder why he went as far as to de-scent the letter, it is an unusual move.”

Severus smiled faintly, “We might get an idea who it is if there was still a lingering scent there.”

Draco agreed. Veelas have extraordinarily sharp senses relative to normal humans, and they are able to distinguish between persons based on scent, or even voice alone. His father and he would have been able to at least discern whether they have met the sender before or not.

Severus, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. He wasn’t a Veela, but a Shadow Daemon, a close kin to Vampires – the students circulating the rumours accusing him of being one was rather close. Their senses were exceptional, and even better during the night, or in dark places.

“Perhaps it was a person used to dealing with magical creatures and beings?” Draco offered.

“Perhaps,” Lucius slowly agreed.

Severus pressed a finger to his temples, “The question, however, is whether we should join him or not. If we join, we might be able to work around Albus’ orders, although he might be suspicious of us eventually; but we will not be able to refuse the Dark Lord’s orders directly or indirectly.” His face darkened as his gaze moved towards his left forearm.

“He mentioned protection… how far can the protection extend to?” Lucius pondered aloud, “Is there a possibility that there is a way to dull the mark or wards to prevent the summoning? He is aware that we have been Marked and defected to the Light, he should have planned for it in recruiting us.”

“And if he doesn’t, we will be subjected to yet another binding,” Severus frowned.

Draco could feel a little hope simmering, “But it is likely that he has devised a plan, isn’t it? The birds, the charms and precautions, it is well thought out.”

“True, Draco,” Lucius agreed, “But we cannot be certain whether this is a true opportunity or just a ruse.” _And if it is a ruse, I would be extremely curious to know how he acquired the information of our allegiances._

“Yet his knowledge of the Old Traditions is astonishing, his greetings and references to Mother Magic shows that he is well versed in the Old Ways. And his perspective on the Wizarding World is very insightful, the ideas he proposes are… interesting,” Lucius skimmed through his letter again. “He even berates purebloods – with a snide comment implying myself – for asserting unfounded superiority over the muggleborns.”

Draco squawked as Severus smirked, “He did what?”

“True though, what he says, _it is not blood that dictates power, but magic itself that dictates power,_ ” Lucius conceded, “Purebloods pride themselves over their magic and their reverence to traditional rituals renewing their connections to Mother Magic, but most of these ideas are lost and based solely on blood purity now.”

“Oh,” was all Draco said. He wasn’t actually one of those blood supremacists, but he was at fault for basing his judgement on blood status and family background at times.

“Draco?” Lucius narrowed his eyes.

Severus smirked, “Perhaps it is time that you renew some of your family teachings, Lucius. Draco has apparently fallen victim to those false ideals over the years here.”

Draco glared at his Godfather, he hated it when his Father started reciting family teachings and values that he was supposed to memorise, and his Godfather was bloody well aware of that!

Severus snickered, his knew perfectly well that his best friend could be rather overbearing in exerting family traditions and values he deemed important. While Draco was a model for pureblood students in Slytherin, there were times when he couldn’t stand his own father as well.

The Floo in the room chimed as they spoke, signalling someone contacting Lucius through the Floo. Allowing the connection to be made, Narcissa’s face appeared in the green flames.

“Narcissa? What is the matter?” Lucius was worried, although they were not in love whatsoever, their relationship over the years have developed into that of close friendship, one that allowed them to confide in each other their darkest secrets and weaknesses.

“Everything is safe in the Manor, Lucius,” Narcissa assured him, “I have received the most interesting piece of mail tonight.”

The men in the room raised their brows, Severus took the initiative to ask, “Is it by any chance delivered by a falcon or eagle, sealed with identity charms, written about a Third Side to the war, and signed off by an unknown person?”

Narcissa seemed rather amused, “I trust you have received similar letters?”

They nodded, “We were just discussing the possibility of joining. Would you like to come through and talk about it, Cissy?”

“Of course,” Narcissa agreed and disappeared from the fireplace for a moment, become stepping gracefully out of the bright flames. Another Golden Eagle followed after her and swooped past them, landing next to the Gyrfalcon that is now perching on the table top.

After settling down and accepting a cup of hot tea, she looked around and asked, “So have you made a decision yet?”

“The Dark Mark is proving to be a rather difficult factor,” Lucius answered smoothly, “We have not been convinced about the credibility and reliability of the sender yet.”

“Are there any hints to who the sender is?”

Severus shook his head, “Scent and magical signature have been changed and removed, and I doubt we’ll be able to track these birds either. He has been thorough.”

“He?” Narcissa quirked a brow, “I was under the impression that the sender made no reference to gender.”

“Uh- we assumed,” Severus managed; Narcissa always had the power to make all of them feel as though they have committed errors – small and large – from time to time, with a few simple gestures.

“I’ve never seen the form of name that he assumed though, but he states that it is equivalent to his actual name,” Lucius added swiftly.

“Equivalent in terms of meaning, or is it that he has different names under his father and mother?” Narcissa questioned, “For that matter, I do not know how the name is pronounced, neither can I fathom its meaning.”

“What name?” Draco was curious.

Understanding that the charms on the letter would not allow Draco to read the content, Lucius wrote the name down on a spare piece of parchment before handing it to his son.

Draco squinted at the unfamiliarity of the language itself, before drawing upon something in distant memory. “Is it possible that the sender has a magical creature heritage? I don’t remember which group of magical creatures used languages similar to this, but I think I remember reading something similar from the Manor Library.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened fractionally, “The sender does mention allies overlooked by the Wizarding population, doesn’t he? Maybe he is one of them, that’s why he could form an alliance with magical creatures?”

Severus frowned in further contemplation before reading the letter again, “Now that you’ve mentioned, the oath that is given, the part on the ‘Strangers to these lands’, could it perhaps be a subtle reference to magical creatures then?”

“That will make the situation entirely different,” Lucius nodded, “different magical creatures may have different forms of magic and ideas, it is possible that they could negate the effects of the Dark Mark, or provide a location unreachable by the Dark Lord and Dumbledore.”

All of them generally agreed to this revelation, and after a few moments of quiet discussion, they decided to swear the oath to secrecy, and await further response from Si’Ariadw’r.

Draco watched in fascination as his Father, Mother and Godfather tapped their respective letters with their wands and intoned softly, “ _We are Strangers to these lands and seek refuge in the Old, Sancta Nosta._ ”

Their letter shone of a brilliant green as their tip of the wand connected with the parchment as their words were sounded, a golden shimmer enveloped their wand and right wrist as they finished reciting, signalling a Wizarding Oath made and accepted.

A light package appeared before each of them, suspending in mid-air for a few seconds before dropping onto their hands. Watching in amusement, they proceeded to open the individual packages, only to find feathers and jewellery within.

Lucius picked up the short note tucked beneath the items and read through it.

> _Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy,_
> 
> _The feathers were happily provided by Helwiyr, the Gyrfalcon bearing your letter, and charmed to reach me in times of emergency. When in extreme danger, hold the feather and release a small burst of magic into it, I will be alerted and provide assistance myself, or through my familiars and allies._
> 
> _The ring is for your protection. Until we are able to meet under favourable settings and proceed to discuss matters pertaining to the Dark Mark, it will protect you from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse (this is only a temporary measure, the charm may fail). While it does not offer immunity to the summonings, it will dull your presence – similar to the effects of a notice-me-not charm but capable to induce an impression to others around you that you are following their orders or actions – in attempt that it will help prevent your participation in raids and provide safety during meetings._
> 
> _I believe that your son, Draco Malfoy, may be in need of these protections as well. I have included a locket in your package, that has protections from the Cruciatus Curse and harmful hexes and curses. The locket is magically connected to your ring (and the necklace of Narcissa Black) and may act as emergency portkeys if needed, the activation keyword is “familiam”. It will transport you to its closest counterpart._
> 
> _If you have immediate issues to be discussed, please send a note with Helwiyr. If not, he will leave once you tell him that there is no reply. I will send you another letter detailing our intentions and efforts as soon as possible._
> 
> _Until then,_
> 
> _May Her Blessings be endowed upon you,_
> 
> _Si’Ariadw’r._

Lucius blinked in amazement. Picking up the ring and examining it carefully, he observed several protection runes carved along the silver band, and an array of spells overlaying the Serpentine gemstone embedded on the ring, intricately woven together but with the magical traces subdued.

The locket, on the other hand, was another amazing piece of spellwork. Similar protection runes were carved over the locket, neatly fitted into the image of a hawk in flight carved onto the cover of the locket. Small Bloodstones flitted across the suface, heavily powered by different spells.

He fingered the silvery feather gently, it exuded a soft warmth and hummed in response to his magic.

Severus received a similar ring as Lucius’, while Narcissa received a necklace that was similar to Draco’s, although there was an added ability to induce healing energy, and to embrace the wearer in a stasis if injury was life-threatening. Both of them received feathers from the Golden Eagles, Severus’ from Gryaif, and Narcissa’s from Fuyd.

Watching the birds flying out of the window and disappearing from their sight quickly, they exchanged a similar look – all of them were looking forward to further acquaintance with this Si’Ariadw’r – Perhaps there still was hope for them, after all.


	4. Shifting Impressions

Draco headed down to the Great Hall the next morning in a lighter mood, which was immediately brought to the attention of his Housemates. Pansy looked fairly amused, “You are almost jumping with joy, Draco, spill.”

With an afterthought, she added a mock threatening glance, “Now.”

“Malfoys do not jump in joy, Pansy,” Draco sniffed disdainfully.

“Fine, brimming in delight, I don’t care,” Pansy narrowed her eyes, “We,” gesturing to herself, Theodore, Blaise, Gregory and Vincent, all walking towards the Slytherin Table, “are most curious about your obvious happiness this morning.”

“No, Pansy, it started last night when he came into the dorm,” Blaise added quickly after receiving a menacing glare, “but we were too tired to ask him why, he came in really late!”

Draco recalled the discussion he had with his parents and Godfather the night before, and his lips curled slowly, “Wouldn’t you love to know? But I simply can’t tell you until I have more concrete details about it. After all, a Slytherin never reveals his secrets.”

Pansy elbowed him lightly before rolling her eyes at him, “You just want to make us suffer.”

“And are you going to deny me that little enjoyment?” Draco picked a few toast and bacon into his plate, and turned to serve himself some scrambled eggs, “It’s nothing.”

Theodore snorted softly, “When you have a complete change of mood from dinner last night, it is definitely not ‘nothing’.”

“I didn’t– ” Draco’ reply was cut off swiftly by Blaise’s interruption, “Draco, you were practically drowning in doom and fear after you received the note last night.”

Draco hmphed indignantly, “Malfoys are always reserved and controlled, I did nothing as you implied.”

“Oh, no need to go on the defensive, Draco,” Pansy placated, “We just wondered what we could do for you, we do have _similar complications_ now, don’t we?”

Draco pondered carefully just how much information he could reveal to his housemates, although he didn’t swear the secrecy oath, it just wasn’t appropriate to spill the contents – just yet.

“Well,” He paused slightly for the effect, “There seems to be a possible faction apart from the two sides, but I can’t say much about it now.”

As the implication of his words imprinted on their minds, all of them widened their eyes fractionally. Their parents were Death Eaters, or at least connected alright, but they have seen Harry Potter survived yet again, and more than once, in his encounters with the Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord himself; chances of the Dark side winning the war seems to be rather slim. Not to mention none of them were interested in branding and submitting themselves to the command of a madman, but that doesn’t mean they look up to Dumbledore as a beacon of light either – Harry Potter, perhaps, if he was better trained, at least he was still mouldable; but Dumbledore was just too _different_ from Slytherin ideals – not to mention the blatant dismissal of their actual welfare.

“Is that true?” Gregory asked quietly. Both him and Vincent were generally seen as mindless thugs, and although they are not as intellectually astounding as their housemates, they _do_ possess the intelligence to make independent decisions, and their survival instincts were much sharper than the others. It was just that they preferred to hide in the background, and get someone else to do the talking.

Draco nodded solemnly, “We don’t know much yet, but it looks promising.”

“And the initiator?” Pansy lowered her voice minutely.

“I said, we don’t know much yet,” Draco continued discreetly, “We are unable to initiate contact ourselves.”

Technically, they could initiate communication with the feather, but the letter had stated it only to be used in emergency situations – and one may never know when they might need it.

“And you are convinced with that little information?” Blaise furrowed his brows, “That seems unlikely, Draco.”

Draco whispered exasperatedly, “I am to be Initiated by Yule, I don’t have much of a choice!”

“Oh,” Pansy widened her eyes, before it her gaze softened and murmured, “We didn’t know, Draco…”

Draco nodded in understanding. He was about to continue when Dumbledore stood up again and captured the attention of all students in the Great Hall to make an announcement.

 _This is unusual, Dumbledore generally makes all his announcements during the Start-of-Term Feast,_ Draco thought.

“Students, I would like to bring your attention to a certain issue, or rather, a group,” Dumbledore smiled warmly at the bewildered faces, “Many of you here may have heard of this group last year, headed by Mr. Harry Potter, as a Defence Association?”

 _Defense Association… or rather, “Dumbledore’s Army”?_ Draco raised a brow questioningly.

The six Slytherins stole a quick glance at the Gryffindor Table: both Weasley and Granger had a surprised but proud smile on their faces, while Potter froze and stared blankly at his half-eaten breakfast before turning to face the Headmaster.

Blaise was the first to mutter while the others nodded in agreement, “Potter’s reaction is _interesting_.”

Longbottom, on the other hand, switched from staring at the Headmaster then to Potter, with a worried look on his face. Nudging Weasley gently in the ribs, the four of them looked at Potter, before the smiles on Weasley’s and Granger’s faces turned worried, fervently whispering to Potter in hushed tones.

“With the success of the group last year in improving their defence skills, I would like to sanction this group into a formal club this year, to instil vigilance in honing your defence skills beyond the classroom. Interested individuals may provide their names to the prefects, and the list of names would be sent to Mr. Potter when he requires it for further planning,” Dumbledore smiled encouragingly, “I would like to remind all students that we are currently living in times of war and uncertainty, Defence is most certainly a skill that we would all need to protect ourselves and survive through the war.”

And with that, he sat down and resumed his meal, although not before nodding at Harry Potter, presumably a gesture for Potter to meet him in his office after breakfast.

 _I wonder what was all that about,_ Draco frowned, _Potter seemed to have been caught completely off guard about the decision, and he doesn’t look very happy about it either._ He didn’t miss Potter’s tight lips and tense jawline as the Headmaster gestured at him.

Sparing a glance at the Teacher’s Table, he could see that both his Father and Godfather look intrigued, possibly they have observed the exchange as well, although his Godfather may be reluctant to admit that he was watching the Golden Boy’s expression.

 _Well, we will soon learn about it,_ Draco finished his breakfast confidently, _as we will learn about the letter last night and its sender._

* * *

 

“… you promised that, Professor, you promised that you wouldn’t do this again,” A soft but persistent voice could be heard beyond the door to the Headmaster’s office.

Lucius raised a brow quizzically as he neared the door to the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore had summoned him to discuss _issues essential to the students’ welfare_ , but he had not anticipated company to this meeting.

“I’m sorry, my boy, I should have told you before I made the announcement,” The Headmaster’s voice was heavy and sincere, “I was afraid you may not appreciate the idea if I have mentioned it to you, but I did promise you that I would not keep you in the dark anymore. I’m sorry, it seems that I have betrayed my word again.”

The other was quiet for a few moments before responding, “I hate this, Professor. Not being in control about my decisions… I hate it, and you know perfectly well, sir...”

The voice was soft but with certainty despite expressing a weakness, with slight hints of apprehension underlying it that perhaps only Slytherins would be apt in picking up. Lucius could feel his curiosity perk.

“Then I assume, Professor,” There was little hesitation in his tone, “that you would grant me absolute freedom over my methods of overseeing the group? May I be assured that no other professors, including you, sir, will attempt to influence my decisions and the students’ choices?”

The Headmaster’s reply radiated warmth, “Yes, of course, Harry. It is your defence club and we will not intrude unless you ask for assistance. Of course, seeing that we have a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year –”

 _Harry?  Harry Potter?_ Lucius was surprised, _it didn’t sound like the spoiled brat that Severus complains of, neither did it sound like the arrogant boy that Draco seemed convinced to dislike._

Feeling that it was inappropriate to eavesdrop further, he rapped twice on the door smartly, before hearing the Headmaster call out an “enter” to allow him entrance into the room.

“Ah, Lucius, how wonderful for you to join us,” Dumbledore waved him in, “I was just about to talk to Harry here about you.”

Lucius twitched the corner of his lips, “I cannot fathom what matters outside of the classroom I should have pertaining to Mr. Potter, Headmaster.”

He glanced swiftly over to the boy sitting across Dumbledore, surprised again to find the boy looking at him not with disdain, but with a cool indifference, and perhaps a shadow of curiosity and compassion lurking beneath the neutrality. The boy lowered his gaze as he caught Lucius’ eyes, and turned towards the Headmaster with rapt attention.

“As you would have heard this morning, Mr. Potter will be leading a Defence Association for extra-curricular practice. Although I have given him permission to run the group as he sees fit, I would like you to act as advisor for the group,” Dumbledore looked at Potter apologetically and explained sincerely, “Harry, I am not able to sanction a group without leaving a professor in-charge of it. I hope that you could use the opportunity to run your plans by Professor Malfoy, and perhaps discuss what spells you would like to include? Professor Malfoy would also be responsible for any activities that you may decide to hold for the other children in the group. Of course, he would not be in active control over the running of the group, just to be there in case you may require authority to settle the students.”

Potter lowered his lashes demurely, “I understand, Professor, I am not adverse to that.”

Lucius could almost feel the power radiating off the teenager as the boy turned to look at him, a flash of challenge at the back of those eyes, “Professor Malfoy? What are your views on it?”

“Lucius?” The Headmaster inquired as Lucius did not answer.

 _Interesting. The boy has strong glamours on his face and his back, and apparently his magic is spilling through his shields… He must have received quite a strong magical boost on his sixteenth birthday, but then again, that would not explain his behaviour._ Lucius chuckled inwardly, _Severus and Draco could be childish and petty about school rivalries, but they would not have misinterpreted the boy **that** much. Working with him might not seem a bad idea after all._

“I will not disagree to the responsibilities, Headmaster,” He replied carefully, “However, I believe that I would like the reassurance from Mr. Potter himself that he is indeed agreeable to this arrangement.” Dumbledore may have already informed him of Lucius’ defect, but he just had to be sure – it is dangerous to have a potential enemy with such magical strength.

The boy gave him a slightly coy look at his response but answered nonetheless, “I will not deny that we do not have the best of history between us, Professor Malfoy. But I am willing to start anew based on Professor Dumbledore’s confidence in you, sir. There is one thing that I am curious about, though: Was it you at the Department of Mysteries last term?”

“Harry!” Dumbledore chided gently, but the boy continued staring at him, waiting for an answer.

Lucius studied the boy closely, observing painful honesty shining in those emerald orbs, before shaking his head lightly, “No, the Dark Lord did not trust me to obtain the Prophecy, I was to focus on creating a power base in the Ministry for him instead. Why- no, how did you tell?”

He remembered that it was one of the lower ranked members whom polyjuiced as Lucius, although he didn’t exactly acquire the Malfoy grace, it was impossible to see through a polyjuice disguise.

Potter widened his eyes, and his gaze flittered a little as if he was deciding whether to answer or not, before responding softly, more of uncertainty than anything else, “It was just like a nagging feeling- it didn’t _feel right_. His magic felt different, a lot more different from Malfoy’s – Draco Malfoy, I mean – than it should have been, I think.”

Dumbledore was surprised at this revelation, it seems that the boy was far more powerful than he had expected. Even more perceptive than he used to be, although he tried not to think of the reasons that led to Harry’s heightened sensitivity to things that every other child should not be aware of.

_You may not be able forgive this old man, Harry; but I had truly wished that I could give you a normal life, a normal childhood. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked Sirius to stay in Grimmauld Place, he should have had time to spend with his Godson that he barely had the chance to know…_

“I see,” Lucius nodded.

Some wizards are able to sense the subtleties within magical signatures between persons, but that was something that he had not mastered, being a Veela, he preferred to rely on his sharper senses.

“I am glad I can be certain that you did not participate in my Godfather’s death, Professor Malfoy,” The boy gave him a genuine smile, softening the edges of his face, “I cannot change the past, but I could prevent the future from playing to its tune. I will send over the schedules and spell list once I have it done, sir.”

As he rose from his seat, he inclined his head towards Dumbledore, “May I leave now, Professor? Classes will be starting, and Professor McGonagall would be most unhappy if I was late for her class.”

The Headmaster gave a small nod, Potter left the office in poised grace. Dumbledore stared hard at Lucius, “Lucius, my boy, Mr. Potter has gone through much during his summer, I trust you would not make the alliance difficult?”

“Of course, Headmaster,” Lucius murmured, “He seems to have changed.”

Dumbledore’s gaze turned sad as the twinkle from his eyes vanished abruptly, “Call it a foolish mistake, Lucius, I had made wrong decisions for him, and the price should be paid by me, instead of the young boy. Do try to get to know him; Severus and Draco may be a little judgemental about Mr. Potter, but he deserves the time and effort for you to do so, especially in light of his changes over the summer.”

And perhaps he might turn out to be a better mentor for certain things Harry should want to learn, now that the boy’s trust in him is long gone – which was entirely his own fault, not Harry’s. He should have known not to withdraw himself from the boy when he was desperate for help and guidance… was he going to make the same mistake he had with Tom Riddle?

Lucius nodded, “Would you like me to advise Severus and Draco…?”

“You can but try, Lucius,” Dumbledore gave him a kind look, “I’m afraid it may be rather difficult for them to overcome their prejudices, but Harry is turning into quite the fine young man. Not unlike his father, but even more like his mother.”

Lucius agreed as he exited the room, thinking over his new observations of the Boy-Who-Lived. _Harry Potter, quite the enigma, isn’t he? I shall have to discuss this with Severus and Draco, as well as Narcissa, perhaps there is more than meets the eye._

* * *

 

Severus gave Gryaif a treat before sitting down before the hearth to ponder over the contents of the letter he had just received from Si’Ariadw’r. The letter had contained much surprise, and he could almost feel his anticipation of further exchange between the sender and himself. Hope was an emotion foreign to him – at least after realising that Albus could not free him from the Dark Lord’s grasp.

Staring back at the letter, he had to carefully decide what to include in his response.

> _Professor Severus Tobias Snape,_
> 
> _May your sufferings cease and freedom dwell upon your future, cum ductu matris magicae._
> 
> _It is a pleasant surprise to receive your oath of secrecy so soon after the letter was sent, I would hope not to betray your trust in our cause._
> 
> _As you may have deduced, there are magical beings within our group, as well as talented wizards and witches. I regret not being able to disclose more information as many aspects have yet to be settled, it would be dangerous, not to mention reckless, to speak of our members freely. As such, codenames are required for each member and letters would be addressed as such from henceforth. Before we are able to meet in person, any other member whom seeks to identify themselves to another (some of our members are aware of all identities for the sake of management and emergencies), they would speak the codeword, “We are Strangers to these lands”, before addressing your codename and their own, and communicating their message. You will be referred to as “Viper”, and I myself “Speaker”._
> 
> _Due to the nature of our members, we are in great need for Instinct suppressants and Wolfsbane potions brewed by a Master. I would like to seek your permission to request for your assistance. It is not an obligation, but if you have other recommendations of certified and reputable Potions Masters, please do provide us with their contacts._
> 
> _Attached to this letter you will find several potions recipe and potions ingredients. I have come across these recipes and am intrigued by the potential of its combination and modifications to create a stronger version of Wolfsbane. The ingredients are provided in abundance, please feel free to experiment on the potions recipe, or to use them in other private experiments. What I ask, is to ensure that these ingredients are put to good use._
> 
> _We currently have a few undergoing projects: we are attempting to establish an unbiased press to release truthful information and useful techniques to defend against mild hexes and curses, as well as creating wards and objects that may be easily erected on each household if required. Some of our members are looking into the possibility of re-enacting Wizarding traditions and etiquette classes, and investigate other possibilities of integrating muggleborns and magical creatures into the Wizarding world. If there are plausible suggestions, please do not hesitate to send forth the idea, we will need as much input as possible._
> 
> _I apologise for not being able to deal with the Dark Mark as of yet, but I am looking into the possibility of removing the brand. If the ring fails to function as required, send word and I will rectify it as soon as possible. Information exchanged in these letters will be regarded under the secrecy oath, but you are free to communicate these issues with known members of the Sanctuary._
> 
> _Until then,_
> 
> _May Her Blessings be endowed upon you,_
> 
> _Speaker._

He picked up the potions recipe and read through them carefully, he wasn’t familiar with these recipes – and that was odd – but the combination of the original Wolfsbane with different instinct suppressants and mind enhancers, together with bone flexibility potions… Severus could foresee a probable potion that is much more powerful than the current Wolfsbane potion, although some of the ingredients would need substitution for incompatibility.

And the ingredients that were sent – that was the most shocking aspect of the letter. There were vials of Unicorn blood (freely given), Nundu blood, Phoenix tears, and a few containers with Werewolf fangs, Faerie wing dust, Basilisk fang and shredded skin, and other rare ingredients.

If he wasn’t convinced by the letter, he was definitely convinced by these ingredients. Some of them would go into the Wolfsbane experiment, but others would create wonders for his other potions experiments.

Just as he reached for a fresh piece of parchment, there was a knock at his door. Feeling a little irritated, he stuffed the letter and recipes into his drawer and barked out, “Enter!”

Lucius pushed open the door warily and frowned, “Why the hostility, Severus?” He didn’t wait for a reply as he beckoned Draco and Narcissa into the room.

Severus scowled at them, “Why on Salazar’s Snake do you have to barge in at such a late time?”

“It is just half past eight, Severus, it is not _late_ ,” Lucius shrugged and gestured around the room, “You do not seem to be sleeping any time soon either.”

“Hush, Lucius,” Narcissa reprimanded softly, “Did we interrupt something?”

“…No.”

Lucius rolled his eyes, Severus was in one of his grumpy moods again.

“We received letters from Speaker, and we thought it prudent to discuss about the new development,” Narcissa explained, “If you are otherwise occupied, we could discuss this in the morning, but I did wish we could send our replies tonight.”

Severus’ expression was sour, while Narcissa’s words sounded polite, there was an underlying threat to do as she wishes _or else_. “I am free now, I was just contemplating the letter I received.”

“Good, then,” Narcissa’s smile was brilliant as she made herself comfortable on the couch.

Lucius and Draco joined her as Severus quirked his eyebrows, “I thought Draco was not involved?”

“He is now,” Lucius commented offhandedly, “He just received the letter to swear the oath, and further instructions as well.”

“I see. Perhaps it would be helpful if we are aware of our codenames?” Severus decided to start the discussion.

Lucius nodded in agreement, “Mine is Moonshine, Draco is Typhon and Cissy is Persephone.”

“Viper,” Severus provided his own codename as well, “He asked if I could brew Bloodlust suppressants and Wolfsbane potions for the cause, and to experiment with the recipes he sent.”

“Hmm, interesting,” Lucius pondered, “I am to exert pressure over the Daily Prophet and attempt to remove the Dark Lord’s men and Dumbledore’s excessive influence from the Ministry. Draco?”

Receiving the gesture to make the next statement, Draco unconsciously straightened his back and replied, “He wondered if there were other students in school, especially the Slytherins, whom may be interested in joining us. And if there have been factions created within the Houses.”

Severus narrowed his eyes, _Speaker seems quite aware and interested in the situations in the school. Perhaps he has other contacts in Hogwarts?_

Narcissa smoothened her skirt as she spoke, “He asked me rather graciously to research and compile information following a certain structure regarding traditional Wizarding festivals and ceremonies.”

They discussed further about the other matters that Speaker has mentioned in his letter, and other possible alternatives that could be implemented, before coming to an end. Just as Severus thought he could retreat to his study and write the letter, Lucius started on another topic.

“What do you think of Harry Potter?”

Severus paused in his thoughts, “What?” _What has the Potter brat got to do with anything?_

“I met him in the Headmaster’s office today, about the Defence Association,” Lucius continued thoughtfully, “He looked nothing like what you and Draco had been saying about him; he was mature and apprehensive, his expressions, if I might say, are carefully guarded, and he even made peace with me. Nothing like what I remembered of him in Draco’s Second Year though.”

“Are you sure? The Potter brat had been nothing but blatantly disrespectful, with little intellectual aspiration,” Severus was extremely sceptical. _The boy was just like his father, the arrogant, attention-seeking Gryffindor!_ He was still furious over the fact that Potter had looked into his pensive and saw the most embarrassing moments of his life.

Draco conceded his father’s opinion, “Potter is much different from last term, some of us have observed the changes. He holds himself differently now, his appearance alone is most respectable; and his performance in class today was exceptional – he used to just do fine in Transfiguration, but he way he casted the spell today, it was almost like it was… second nature to him. His grip, wand movements, everything was so fluid, and his control of magic too. Have you seen our essays, Professor?”

“I have no wish to read through nonsense written by those dunderheads just yet.”

“Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick both commended him over his assignments done over the holidays, I was wondering maybe he had improved on his Potions essay as well,” Draco suggested, he himself was witness to Potter’s pitiful attempt at potions for the last few years.

Severus’ eyebrows shot to his hairline as he opened the drawer and reached for the scrolls of assignments there. Searching through the submissions for the one labelled with Potter’s name, he unsealed the parchment and settled down to read, it couldn’t be any worse than any other assignments he handed in prior to this, could it?

Severus was surprised to see that the parchment was a lot cleaner than it used to be – Potter was extremely clumsy with ink and quills before – and there were neither ink blotches nor untidy scratch marks all over the place.

As he read further down the essay, he couldn’t stop himself from widening his eyes in surprise. Reaching for the potions books he kept on the shelf behind him, he referred to some of the precautions and interaction effects that was stated in the essay before scrutinising the writing again.

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged an amused look as they observed the Potions Master’s changing expressions, “So? How was it, Severus?”

“It is…” Severus struggled to find the word, “quite enlightening, I should say.”

Draco was caught in surprise; that was probably the highest compliment that he had ever heard coming from his Godfather.

Severus frowned as he looked back at the essay, “If Potter had the brains to write an essay like this, why would he have held himself back? And if so, why would he choose to show it now?” He may not have been _that_ harsh on the boy if he had displayed this level of talent, Merlin knows he had a soft spot for Potions prodigies.

“You did mention that this change occurred over the summer, yes?” Narcissa inquired softly. She had not encountered the Potter boy directly this term, and brief glances from before didn’t make much of an impression, “Maybe something crucial happened over the summer?”

“The Order did not detect any disturbances this summer, the only thing that may have made a large impact on Potter was-” Severus had to clench his teeth, “the mutt’s death.”

“The mutt- You mean Sirius Black?” Narcissa was confused, “What did my cousin have to do with Harry Potter?”

“He was the boy’s Godfather, he found that out when Black came after Pettigrew in his Third Year,” Speaking of which brought back bad memories for Severus.

“Oh,” Narcissa sighed softly, so the boy had lost both his parents and his Godfather that he had just known for barely two years? She couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards the poor boy, “That must have hurt him a lot.”

“He yelled at me for letting the mutt go into danger, Narcissa,” Severus sneered disdainfully.

“He lost his Godfather, Severus,” Narcissa’s tone was gentle but firm, “Sirius could have been his only family in the Wizarding world, and to lose that… He must have been heartbroken, Severus, how could he not lash out? It’s a wonder he didn’t attack you physically or magically, and I should remind you that your attitude towards him was probably not helpful at all.”

Draco shuddered as he comprehended his mother’s words. He couldn’t imagine how he could deal with losing his parents and Godfather. And Potter had lost all of them… “But he has the Weasleys, Mother. Surely-?”

“They may be friendly and welcoming towards the boy, Draco, but _they are not family_ ,” Narcissa explained quietly, “Nothing is like family.”

Draco nodded, this was something all purebloods understood well.

Severus pressed his temple as he agreed grudgingly with Narcissa, “I will see for myself in Potions class, I still cannot understand how he had managed to get an ‘O’ in O.W.L Potions.”


	5. Planning and Preparations

Harry scattered rolls of parchment and several tomes onto the table nearest to the common room fireplace before settling comfortably into a couch, curling up in his seat and pulling a soft blanket over his lower torso.

Hermione clucked her tongue disapprovingly, “ _Must_ you sit like that, Harry?”

“Oh, of course I do, Hermione,” Harry responded merrily as he tucked the edges of the blanket around his feet, and reached for the lists of students’ names interested in joining the DA, “It’s so nice and cozy, won’t you join me?” He said as he fluttered his lashes appealingly.

“Blimey, mate, how can you fit your whole body in that thing?” Ron huffed, it wasn’t a small couch – granted – but it wasn’t as if it would be comfortable trying to squeeze your whole body onto the couch. He preferred stretching his legs over the divan – at least when no one else is there – much better than Harry’s posture.

Harry sniffed as he scanned through the names, “Maybe because you are like, I don’t know, 6 inches taller than me?”

“Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to mention that,” Ron was apologetic; most of the Gryffindors knew that height was a sensitive topic for Harry, since he was around 5 feet 7 when the others in the same year were mostly well over 6 feet. It wasn’t a matter of pride or masculinity, but it was a constant reminder of his ill-treatment back at the Dursleys, and no matter how much more he tried to eat during school term, he still wasn’t getting any taller, or heavier, for that matter.

“No worries, I gave up on that a while ago,” Harry waved his hand dismissively, but immediately turning to a teasing look, “At least I won’t be targeted as physical labour to slave for the girls, I’d say that is much worse than my being shorter than average, Ron.”

“Harry!” Hermione bristled.

Ron shuddered as he remembered being ordered around by the girls to arrange furniture around the common room, “Geez, don’t remind me, Harry, it was a nightmare!”

Hermione scolded softly, “Ron, we weren’t _that_ bad! And the common room looks so much better now anyway!”

Ron just shook his head tiredly, who bloody cares how the common room looks? As long as there are enough sofas and couches, the carpet is fine, the room is warm, who cares whether the couches were forming a symmetrical circle, or whether the shelves have been positioned strategically across the room?

“Seriously, Harry, can’t you sit properly?” Hermione sounded exasperated, Gryffindor common room wasn’t exactly a space she would consider a private setting without the need to exercise caution.

Harry just gave her a look, “Would you rather I sprawl out on the carpet in front of the fireplace, ‘Mione?” He would have preferred that actually, but oh well, decency and all.

Hermione studied his expression for a moment, “You wouldn’t.”

“Hmm…” Turning a dreamy gaze towards the fireplace, he looked thoughtful, “You know, now that we’ve mentioned it, it looks rather comfy-”

“Harry James Potter, what am I supposed to do with you?” Hermione sighed.

“Give up on the lecture about proper decorum?” Harry grinned, “I’ll do that out in the public, I promise, Hermione.”

“You should just give up on that, Hermione,” Neville took a seat opposite of Harry, “Harry knows what to do, and Ron has a worse posture than he does now.”

Ron immediately straightened his back, “Hey, no need to drag me into this, Neville!”

Neville just smiled and beckoned towards Harry, “Need help with that?”

“Mmhmm,” Harry hummed in agreement, “I was thinking of splitting up the duties within the DA, seeing the number of hopefuls wanting to join the DA, care to help in planning? I need to submit my plans to Professor Malfoy before conducting the meetings and actual sessions. Oh and Hermione, we’ll need to create another charmed namelist as well, are you free to discuss about it now?”

“You needn’t ask, Harry,” Hermione shifted from her seat to the sofa beside Harry’s, dragging Ron along, giving Harry a stern “why-do-you-even-bother-to-ask-of-course-I-will-help-you-idiot” look.

Ron spluttered, “Professor Malfoy? You mean Lucius bloody Malfoy, Harry? We’ll have to report to him?”

“Ron, he’s our professor for DADA now, you know,” Harry frowned.

“He is that, well, but really, Harry, he is a Malfoy and he was a-” Ron continued disbelievingly.

Harry tilted his head to the side and stared at Ron pointedly, “Ron, you _know_ his decision over this whole war now, and you _know_ where we stand in relation to him and his family, is his past so difficult to overcome? He has been civil to us, all of us, during class, are you going to respond in this manner? It’s hypocritical to judge by family names when you disdain those whom judge by blood status, Ronald.”

Ron’s first instinct was to yell in denial, but as Harry’s tone and message sunk in, he gulped. They had talked long and hard on the Hogwarts Express and at the start-of-term feast about this – well, it was mainly Harry doing the talking and they listened, and argued – and he had almost forgotten their decision and agreement about the situation. “Sorry, mate, I’m just so used to blaming them and all for being Dark and evil, it’s hard to change immediately.”

“It’s fine, it took me a while to get used to changing my way of thinking too,” Harry gave him a warm smile, “You don’t need to _like_ them, as long you can work with him and make sure not to create havoc within DA, I’m cool, Ron.”

“Really weird to hear you say that, mate,” Ron wiggled his brow, “Hermione used to be our voice of reason, and both of us were supposed to be impulsive Gryffindors who can’t stop and think for a minute; and now I’m left all alone in this role…”

“I _am_ a Family Head now,” Harry stated, “And with those two cruel taskmasters all over my manners and knowledge…” He shuddered involuntarily, “I’m glad I’m still sane and alive.”

Hermione clucked her tongue again, “It all ended well, we can see; but I really hope that we get to meet _your two cruel taskmasters_ soon, Harry. But back to business now, what do we need to do about the DA? Have you decided on the spells that you’re going to include in the sessions yet? And how frequent are the sessions going to be? What’s the level of involvement of the Professors?”

Harry couldn’t help but smile, “Oh Hermione, ever the wise one, what are we going to do without you?”

“Stop being cheeky and answer my questions, Harry,” Hermione flushed slightly.

“Well,” Harry grinned unrepentantly as he handed over a piece of parchment, “I thought that these spells are the basic spells that has to be perfected over the first few sessions first, and then we’ll move on to the spells at the bottom and build up from there.”

Hermione read through the list silently as she thought over the difficulty and functions of each spell listed there, “They’re all defensive spells, Harry. Don’t you think some of them, especially the Slytherins would object to that?”

“Then we’ll just have to show them defensive spells can be just as deadly as offensive ones, don’t we?” Harry’s smile was almost magnificent, “I was thinking that we could have a little duel performance before the crowd after we get all the rules across…”

Hermione and Ron stared confusedly at him, but Neville bobbed his head in understanding, “That is a splendid idea, Harry; you can assert and enforce your leadership position when you emerge victorious, while you show them how to utilise defensive spells creatively to knock down your opponent at the same time.”

Harry nodded his head in response as a look of comprehension dawned across Hermione’s and Ron’s faces. His two friends are very dear to him, of course, but some things only Neville, whom had a pureblood upbringing and training for his Family Head’s position, would understand without saying.

“I see, mate,” Ron frowned, “But who are you going to duel with?”

Harry simply smiled as Hermione answered the question, “Think, Ron. The Slytherins wouldn’t try anything since Harry’s duelling skills still remain an unknown to them, who else is going to object?”

“…Oh,” Ron grinned vindictively, “Do you think Smith or McLaggen would start yelling first?”

“I’d say Smith, Ron; but I wouldn’t deny that McLaggen might try to outdo him or something,” Harry replied smoothly, “I certainly believe I can hold a front against those two.”

Hermione huffed indignantly, “That’s a real given, Harry. They can’t duel for Merlin’s sake.”

Neville snickered softly, “And they can’t keep their mouths shut to save their lives either.”

“Okay, so the list of spells is done, when do you suppose we should start with offensive spells?” Hermione laid the list down.

Harry squinted his eyes as he thought carefully, “Probably into the third or fourth session for the advanced group, but I’ll have to see about the rest. Dumbledore didn’t specify the year, so we’ve got students from First Year all the way to Seventh. Do you think it’ll result in an outrage if I told First and Second Years that their magical cores aren’t stable enough to participate?”

“That’ll depend on how you present the information, of course,” Hermione shifted into a more upright position, “You can be extremely persuasive, you know.”

“Sorry?” Harry furrowed his brow, “I’m a bit lost here.”

Hermione just shook her head in frustration: Harry definitely had leadership characteristics, people are naturally drawn to him, especially so now since he’s acquired a grace and composure that practically screams “attractive” – or rather, “seductive” – at all those willing to listen to him. Not to mention he has the fame of being the Boy-Who-Lived at his fingertips, just waiting to be used.

Neville understood Hermione’s exasperation as he spelled it out for Harry, “All wizards and witches are inevitably attracted to power, Harry – yes, not only the Slytherins – and if you presented a powerful image and sincerity when you speak to them, they’ll understand, and some would probably – pardon me – worship you for your warm consideration.”

“That sounds awfully manipulative, Neville,” Harry was a little stunned, but generally more intrigued than shocked, “I never knew you had that in you.”

“I didn’t know either,” Ron muttered under his breath.

“Okay, next thing, then,” Hermione concluded as she stole the piece of parchment still held in Harry’s hand, “A physical regiment? I think they’ll all have a lot to say about this, Harry, from what we’ve experienced, wizards and witches generally have no love for anything non-magical.”

“What do you mean, a physical regiment?” Ron plucked the parchment out of Hermione’s fingers, “Looks a lot like Quidditch working out… I could deal with that. No problem, mate, just show them some stunning dodges in your duel and they’ll shut up.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione was rather sceptical.

“Positive,” Ron nodded his head, “It’ll be seen as a component of power itself.”

Seeing Hermione’s confused look, Neville explained, “We don’t just judge by magical strength alone, Hermione, physical strength, speed or stealth, anything that contributes to duelling strength is considered power. It’s just that many of us aren’t that skilled, so it eventually gets left out, but a reminder would bring back all the attention.”

“Hmm, I see,” Hermione nodded in acceptance, “Will the professors be involved in the sessions?”

“Professor Malfoy will be there, he’s in-charge after all,” Harry started counting off, “I would want to invite Professor Flitwick for a few sessions since he’s a Duelling Master; Professor Snape, maybe, he does know a lot about duelling and curses after all, I think we might include a session or two on using potions in battle or something; Professor Dumbledore would probably want to check-up on us although he says he’s giving me free reign; and possibly Professor McGonagall, transfiguration could be dead helpful if we needed to hide or stall or something during a battle.”

“You’ll need to collaborate with the professors, Harry, since you’re the leader of the group, but I think you’ve got all this planned out, the survival skills component sounds intriguing,” Hermione gave her approval as she smiled at the slender youth.

Ron had a look of disgust, “Good luck talking to Snape, mate, he won’t be too happy; and McGonagall won’t go easy on you either.”

“And that makes me feel so much better, thanks, Ron,” Harry replied sarcastically.

Hermione coughed lightly before the boys could start bickering, “So what spells would you like to include on the namelist, Harry?”

“We’ll need the same ones as before, I don’t want them gossiping around about what we do in DA; and to secure their agreement to the rules of DA, and perhaps some charm to make it invisible to others except for those involved?”

“Wait, let me get my books first,” Hermione ran up to the girls’ dormitory.

Ron and Neville turned to look at Harry expectantly, “Well, obviously we won’t be helping with the jinxes on the parchment, so what do you need us to do?”

Harry grinned as he shoved the long lists of names into each of their hands, “You can help me sort these names out by year and house, so that I can write notices for each of the houses and talk to the First and Second Years.”

Neville accepted the papers and started to work, while Ron grimaced in face of such a task, “Blimey, Harry, you know I hate sorting things out… The things I do for you, mate.”

“Sure, Ron,” Harry smirked as he picked up another list of names, “I’ll make sure I get the twins to thank you,” _and prank you._

Ron glared at him half-heartedly as he started reading the list, after going through the first few names he couldn’t help but splutter, “Draco Malfoy? _He_ wants to join DA? He was on our tails last year! And Zabini? Parkinson? Nott? Goyle? Crabbe?” He paled as he went down the list, and he stared at Harry helplessly, “We’re really going to have to deal with the Slytherins, aren’t we?”

“Yes we are, Ron,” Harry smiled sweetly over the list in his hands, “Don’t worry, I won’t put you in charge of them, I don’t think red heads and serpents go together well.”

Ron just gave him another half-glare before grabbing a quill and organising the names by year and house.

* * *

 

Severus watched as students filed into his Sixth Year Advanced Potions class, most of them were his snakes, but there were five Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff and two Gryffindors that made it into his class.

Scrutinising Potter closely as he made his way to an unoccupied station, he had to admit that Draco was indeed accurate in his observations. Potter placed his Potions kit onto the table and raised his head, meeting Severus’ gaze evenly – a slight note of hesitation, but mostly indifference and a tinge of deference.

 _So the boy has the ability to show respect and deference, after all,_ Severus decided to observe further before making any comments to Potter, he had to grudgingly admit that his treatment of the boy wasn’t fair, and the signs of intelligence and self-control Potter showed now boded well for future classes. If he really has a talent for potions after all, it _was_ possible that they might get along well enough, for a Gryffindor, at least.

“All of you here have managed to make it to N.E.W.T. level Potions, whether by sheer luck,” He gave a swift glance at Potter, although it did not hold as much menace than before, “or by practical knowledge. N.E.W.T. level Potions is not simply an instruction of potion-making, it requires adaptability, rather than booksmart,” He paused for a split second as he looked at Granger and the Ravenclaws, “it requires finesse, subtlety and patience. We shall see soon enough whether you indeed have the predisposition to master the art.”

Deciding to test whether Potter has really improved his knowledge on potions, he whirled around to face the teenager, “Tell me, Mr. Potter, what is Golpalott’s Third Law?”

Potter’s tone was calm and even, “It states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of antidotes for each of the separate components, sir.”

His eyebrows raised as he continued to ask, “If Ms. Granger unfortunately ingested a mixture of the Draught of Living Death, Bloodroot Potion, and Venomous Tentacula Juice, what would you do?”

“I would use a Bezoar, sir,” Potter lowered his gaze as he answered, “Trying to create a true antidote for the combined poisons would take too much time, she would have died before a solution was found.”

Severus couldn’t deny that he was rather impressed, most students would refer back to Golpalott’s Third Law and try to explain the different concoctions they might come up with, but the most practical answer would be to use a Bezoar due to situational urgency. He stared at Potter in a different light – yes, this was a boy whom had faced death and knew the importance of _surviving_.

“Very well, Mr. Potter, ten points to Gryffindor,” Severus turned towards the class, “When a mixed poison is ingested, time is of essence, there is no use of developing the complicated mixture of antidote if your intended patient had died. You may investigate the probable concoctions thereafter, but simply using a Bezoar would cure most of the poisons, as would Phoenix Tears.”

Draco was stumped; his Godfather had never awarded Gryffindor points, especially not Potter! Seems that Potter’s change is actually great enough to catch Severus off his guard, and he was impressed by Potter’s answer himself – he had not thought of that, the simplest of solutions but it just slipped his mind.

“Today we will be brewing the Draught of Living Death, refer to the instructions on the board,” Severus gestured towards the board as step-by-step instructions started appearing on the board, he had decided to include another small test for the class in the recipe, “You will work in pairs. Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass. Mr. Goyle…”

He arranged for all non-Slytherin students to be paired with a Slytherin, as he came towards the last pair – whom he had strategically placed together to see if he could get a better understanding of the changes in the boy –, “Mr. Potter, you will work with Mr. Malfoy.”


	6. A Brewing Intimacy

Harry squinted his eyes as he read through the instructions on the board, after frowning for a few moments, he turned towards his newly assigned potions partner and asked, “Malfoy, do you think there’s something wrong about line four?”

Draco stared at Potter disbelievingly before turning towards the board again, reading carefully. _Ground the Valerian root into a fine powder, and add it to the mixture after 2 clockwise stirs._ He quickly re-read the statement a few more times before turning to scowl at Potter, “What do you mean?”

Harry was still pondering at the instructions and totally oblivious to Malfoy’s apparent distrust of his statement, “Valerian root has strong sedative properties, wouldn’t the grounded root have too high a potency, and react with asphodel to actually induce a peaceful death, instead of a dead-like sleep?”

Frowning as he tried to recall the properties of the Valerian root and asphodel, Draco was lost in concentration. Severus, however, chose to step in as he commented softly to the both of them, “Very observant, Mr. Potter. What would you do instead?”

Harry widened his eyes in slight surprise, was Professor Snape really complimenting him? Not to mention the hatred and menace usually held there for him was pleasantly absent. He thought the ten points given just before was a mistake or something, but it seems that the professor is actually being nice, or rather, neutral to him for once.

“Dice or slice it, sir,” He cocked his head to a side as he thought, “Reducing its surface contact with the asphodel before the other ingredients are added to neutralise its potency, before the potion is completed, I think… professor.”

Severus nodded his head slowly, “Dicing the root into small chunks would be sufficient, Mr. Potter; now get started, or the both of you will not complete the potion before the end of the class.”

Draco snapped back into reality, gaping at the professor’s retreating back – the expression on the face of his Godfather just now as he acknowledged Potter’s observation may have looked neutral or a little dismissive,  but unknown to others, it actually showed some sort of appreciation and commendation – only gaining back his composure when the other boy started speaking again.

“Malfoy, should I get the ingredients or do you…” Harry thought that Malfoy behaved rather awkwardly today.

Nodding his head hastily, “I’ll start the fire and heat the water.”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged as he left his seat and headed towards the ingredients store.

Draco carefully lit a fire and placed the cauldron of water over the flames to start heating it to the appropriate temperature. Having a slight moment to wait, he turned and looked around the classroom. The rest of his classmates were diligently starting up the potion, although none of them seem to have pointed out the problem in the instructions as Potter just did (and confirmed by Severus himself!).

He looked at the ingredients store; Potter was retrieving the required ingredients rather efficiently, balancing the containers effortlessly on one hand as he reached to scoop up the vial of wormwood.

Draco had no idea exactly how proficient Potter is in Potions, since now he couldn’t judge based on past results, and Severus refused to let him read Potter’s assignment, he will have to gauge from Potter’s behaviour in this class – and frankly, Potter was rather impressive. He had the base knowledge, he could apply it to the instructions and modify the recipe – he suspected the professor included that mistake on purpose to make his point about the difficulty of N.E.W.T. Potions; Draco supposed Potter was actually decent, as opposed to his red-headed, short-tempered friend, although even Weasel seems to have dwindled down a fair bit since the start of the term.

Harry shifted his hold on all the ingredients before turning around, nearly bumping into an anxious Hermione. “Oops, sorry, Hermione.”

“Harry,” She whispered softly, “Malfoy’s not giving you trouble, is he? It’s taken you so long to start collecting the ingredients!”

“Malfoy what? Oh, no,” Harry couldn’t help but smiled, “No, Hermione, we were just looking through the recipe. Don’t you trust me not to start a fight now?”

Hermione snorted, “I trust you, Harry, but I don’t know if we can trust Malfoy directly now. Light side or not, he’s still the same Draco Malfoy that we dealt with for the past five years.”

“I’m flattered, Hermione,” Harry winked at her before receiving a stern glare, “He’s not doing anything- actually he’s behaving quite weirdly but he hasn’t done or said anything bad to me yet, so don’t worry, okay? Even Professor Snape’s not horrid to me today.”

“If you say so,” Hermione sniffed disbelievingly before turning towards the store.

Harry just shook his head affectionately as he made his way to their station, his friends were simply too worrisome. Placing the ingredients on the table, he turned towards Malfoy questioningly, “You take the asphodel, I’ll take the Valerian root?”

“Fine with me,” Draco shrugged nonchalantly as he reached for the asphodel and the grounding pestle and mortar, he wasn’t too picky about preparing potions ingredients; he shared the love for the art with his Godfather ever since he was introduced to potion-making.

Harry nodded as he took the Valerian root and started chopping it into fine chunks, each of approximately the same shape and size, as he spared a glance at the cauldron to check the temperature of the water.

 _Potter does handle a silver knife nicely,_ Draco noted, _it isn’t easy to maintain a consistency in diced ingredients, especially when many of them simply resist the blade._

They worked in companionable silence for a while, adding the ingredients into the cauldron and stirring according to the instructions. The Draught of Living Death itself was not a difficult potion, but it required a fair amount of concentration and control in the preparation of the ingredients, and the slightest mistake in the amount or size of prepared ingredients would affect the consistency and effects of the potion.

“Damn it!” Harry lifted his head from observing the potion’s consistency as he heard Malfoy cursing under his breath. “What is it, Malfoy?”

Malfoy met his eyes, looking a little embarrassed albeit his apparent frustration, and muttered softly, “These beans simply won’t stay!”

Harry looked at the Sophophorous beans as he checked against the instructions again: _Cut up the Sophophorous beans to collect its juice._ Inclining his head to a side as he pondered, he made a suggestion to Malfoy, “Have you tried crushing it with the blade instead? We only need the juice of the beans, the state of the bean itself shouldn’t matter.”

“No harm in trying,” Malfoy nodded, obviously tired of struggling with the tough texture of the beans, and flipped his knife to press the blade against the beans, almost missing to collect the juice as it oozed out of the beans.

Watching others in the class still attempting to cut up the beans, only to end up with beans flying all over the counter, Draco felt oddly accomplished at the cupful of juice he’d collected. He nodded again to Potter in slight gratitude, “Good suggestion.”

Potter simply smiled in reply, adding the sloth brain into the cauldron and watching the potion change from a murky brown to a brilliant blue.

Draco was caught by surprise, Potter had never smiled _at_ him for the past five years in Hogwarts – not that he had reason to, either – he had saw him smile at his friends and housemates before, but never looking at it directly. If he had known Potter’s smile was so captivating, he wouldn’t have behaved that much of a brat before this.

Potter _was_ quite good-looking, he had to admit that the girls talking about him was right, especially when the gossip about Potter being an item heightened since he changed over the summer. His smile softened his features and brightened up his face, a seemingly amused light dancing in his emerald eyes, sending a soothing feeling to those receiving the smile. It wasn’t the feeling of being overwhelmed as Daphne’s or Pansy’s would sometimes give off, when they suddenly had the urge to dress up and groom themselves with plenty of makeup and jewellery, it was just pretty – yes, he knew that’s not what someone should use to describe a guy, but Potter was barely the height of the Greengrass sisters anyway – and comfortable.

Wait, was he just – no, he was _not_ sizing Potter up as a potential partner! Draco shook his head, he wasn’t particular whether to pick a male or female partner – it all came down to compatibility, after all – but he was not about to start seeking a mate just yet!

“Malfoy?” Potter was giving him a puzzled look as he gestured towards the cauldron, “The Sophophorous beans.”

Staring at the bubbling potion, Draco finally realised that he still had the Sophophorous beans juice in his hand and the potion was ready for the next stage. He poured the juice into the cauldron and reached for the glass rod, stirring the potion counter-clockwise seven times.

The colour of the potion gradually lightened and turned into a silvery blue when he finished the seventh stir. He stared hard at the potion, the colour was supposed to be a nearly clear liquid at the end, even silver would be fine, but there shouldn’t be a tinge of blue in it. He thought back about the theory behind stirring before looking at Potter, “Do you think adding a clockwise stir would help?”

“Probably,” Potter shrugged.

Cautiously adding one more clockwise stir to the mixture, Draco was pleased to see the last shade of blue melting away, leaving the silvery sheen of the potion behind.

Both of them leaned towards the potion to look closer at the mixture, attempting to find out whether all the ingredients have been thoroughly blended, when Draco caught a whiff of Potter’s scent – warm, soft, fresh vanilla with a tinge of cinnamon, a slight earthy scent with a muted scent of fiery wood.

_Something was off about it._

“I think it might be the changes in the Valerian root affecting this, would you mind if I repeated the last stirring cycle again?” Potter straightened up, quirking his eyebrow in question.

Draco passed him the glass rod and watched him stir the mixture. He knew something felt wrong about Potter’s scent, but he couldn’t pinpoint which part of it felt wrong; but it was attractive enough. It was soft and encompassing, distinctive but not overly str- wait, he’s not going to compare it to a potential mate!

A Veela’s sense of sight and smell is powerful, so they would have to make sure that any potential mate that they decide to Court is pleasing to the Veela in terms of appearance and scent; but Draco was not intending to find a mate this early in life, he had planned to start Courting only after graduation, for Merlin’s sake!

Although one of the factors was that he haven’t met someone attractive enough and worthy of Courting yet; Potter here seemed to have messed up his plans – he’ll have to observe Potter closer than he had planned to now, and see if he could be a potential mate, then. After all, Potter doesn’t seem to be as insufferable as he was before.

“Done,” Harry declared as he removed the glass rod from the cauldron and laid it on the table, looking at the clear potion with satisfaction. Wondering why Malfoy did not make any comments, he lifted his gaze from the cauldron, only to realise that Malfoy was staring at him with a strange intensity. “Malfoy?”

“What?” Draco snapped back to his senses, and finally lowered his gaze to the cauldron, finding that the potion is at the perfect consistency and colour now. “Good, it looks like what it should be now.”

“Mmhmm,” Potter’s head bobbed up and down once, “The diced Valerian root probably required one more stirring cycle to blend in with the other ingredients, as opposed to the grounded one, I think.”

Towards the end of the class, Professor Snape started going around the class to inspect the completed potions, giving comments as he went along.

“Too little asphodel, and the potion is too thick,” He looked at the purple liquid in the cauldron disdainfully, “You should be grateful I am not asking you to test the potion yourself.”

Sneering at the brownish green potion in another cauldron, he vanished it with a swish of his wand, “ _Evanesco_. A complete mess – have you not read the instructions beyond the first two lines, you imbeciles? _Pitiful_.”

Almost everyone’s potion suffered Professor’s Snape quiet wrath – about dunderheads and imbeciles being unable to follow instructions decently – with Hermione’s and Greengrass’ potion receiving the least scrutiny before he moved towards Harry’s and Malfoy’s station.

Gathering a ladle of the clear liquid, he inspected the potion closely, checking its consistency, colour and smell, finally giving a tiny nod of acknowledgement and the slightest hint of satisfaction, “Very well, bottle this up and submit it to my desk.”

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, both of you will submit a 2 feet essay on the changes you made to the instructions and explain your reasons clearly,” Turning back towards the whole class, “The rest of you are to submit a 2 feet essay on what went wrong about your potion, and to find out what are the mistakes that I have included in the instructions written on the board; due next Friday. Class dismissed.”

After they cleared up the station after submitting the labelled vials to the professor’s desk, Harry reached into his book satchel and pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Malfoy, “Malfoy, this is the notice about the arrangement of DA sessions. Could you put it up in the Slytherin common room? The first meeting is Monday night, your Father has already approved the schedule and spell lists.”

Malfoy nodded slightly as he took the parchment, reading the contents swiftly before keeping it into his own bag, “See you after lunch then, Potter.” The lesson after lunch is a Gryffindor-Slytherin Charms class.

Harry smiled and nodded before striding gracefully out of the classroom.

“I see what you and Lucius meant now,” Severus said softly as the classroom was emptied, “Potter has changed, quite a lot too.”

Draco smirked, “And he was unsettled by the fact that you haven’t taken points off him.”

Severus merely raised his eyebrow in response, “You were more unsettled than Potter was, Draco.”

Draco frowned, “Was it that obvious?”

“Even Potter knew that you were staring, do not try to convince me that you did not see him giving you weird looks, Draco,” To tell the truth, Severus was rather amused, it has been a long time since he saw his Godson gaping at something or someone, “What happened?”

Deciding to keep the potential mate part to himself – he would never hear the end of it if his parents caught wind of that news, not that they weren’t supportive, but just overwhelming sometimes – he answered, “When we were both looking over the cauldron, I caught his scent. He smelled- I’m not sure, but something about his scent wasn’t right.”

“What do you mean?” Severus frowned.

“It’s just-um- like something wasn’t supposed to be there?” Draco shrugged, “I only felt it for a moment, I’m not too sure about it.”

“I see,” Severus nodded, “We may need to keep an eye out, just in case it meant something.”


	7. Setting the Rules

Harry surveyed the room setup that the Room of Requirement has provided upon his request for a place for the DA meeting; there were several bookshelves of books on the topic of Defence at the end of the room, and there were a couple of soft pillows and dummies at both sides of the room, but most of the part of the room was just left empty.

Ron shook his head in exasperation as Hermione darted off immediately towards the books, while Neville turned to look at Harry, “How did the talk with the First and Second Years go?”

“They were quite upset at the beginning,” Harry conjured cushions so that the members could sit comfortably when they arrived, “but after explaining about the instability of immature magical core and possible risks, I think they were accepting in the end.”

Ron snorted, “Accepting? You should have seen their faces, Neville, they practically worshipped Harry after his little speech with them.”

Neville quirked his brow, only Ron accompanied Harry for his talk with the First and Second Years, Hermione had consultation with her Arithmancy professor, while he had to help out at the greenhouses, so both of them were clueless about how Harry managed to convince the lower years.

“They did no such thing, Ron,” Harry glared half-heartedly at him, “They just understood the consequences and backed off.”

“Seriously, Harry, they were like Creevy multiplied in number!” Ron exclaimed, flailing his arms wildly, “You should have seen it, Neville! Those First and Second Years were staring at Harry like he’s some beacon of light when he was talking about the theory, and then when he was talking about inter-house rivalry – can you believe it, even those slimy little snakes were ogling him half the time!”

“Ron…” Harry tried to stop him but Neville was faster, “So _that_ was why all attention was on Harry during breakfast today, then? I thought we missed something big about Harry in the Daily Prophet…”

Harry rolled his eyes and refused to answer. He had had enough of being stared at without the First and Second Years adding fuel to it, thank you very much! And it wasn’t as if he did something great… Just a bit of magical theory background on magical cores, and a little persuasion thrown in back there, why on earth were they so affected by it?!

Casting a _tempus_ and checking the time, he ignored Ron who winked at him and spoke to Neville instead, “Ginny will be bringing the Gryffindors here, and Luna and Ernie will be leading the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs here. I’ll go and show the Slytherins the way. Try to control Ron a bit, would you, Neville? And…” Glancing at Hermione who was still immersed in whatever book she had in hand, “please get Hermione to prepare the namelist and the fake coins. Merlin knows how to pry her away from those books…”

Neville made a face and nodded, “No problem, I’ll just… _try_. Be careful though, Harry.”

“Yeah, if the Slytherins do something…” Ron added.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Harry rolled his eyes again as he walked towards the door.

Really, he had to try to find a way to make his friends less worrisome. Yes, it is nice having someone caring about you, but this was simply exhausting… He just hoped that the meeting today will show them that _everyone_ can get along just fine… at least he hoped that no one would try to hurt and kill another off or something.

Sighing softly as he made a turn to the dungeons, he saw Draco Malfoy, his father and a group of Slytherins waiting near their dormitory entrance.

“Mr. Potter,” Lucius Malfoy greeted him.

Harry nodded to them, “Professor Malfoy,” Turning towards the other Slytherins, he continued, “Good evening. I don’t know if all of you know how to access the Room of Requirement, so I’ll bring you there for this time.”

Gesturing for them to follow him, he started making his way back to the Room on the seventh floor. Telling the others to stay there for a moment, he paced in front of the Room three times as some of the Slytherins gave him weird looks, before the door appeared.

Just as he opened the door, he heard a muffled shout and a red beam of light sped towards him, forcing him to duck instinctively before remembering that the entire group of Slytherins were behind him. Raising his wand, he erected a shield and quickly dissipated the spell.

Harry moved aside to allow the Slytherins to enter the door before going into the room and closing the door. He whisked around and sent a death glare to the group already present in the room, “Who thought that it was a great idea to fire a spell towards anyone who was entering the room just now?”

His tone was deadly cold as he stared at the others, his emerald eyes glowing in silent rage as he asked again, “Who was it?”

“It was Mclaggen,” Neville provided the name, as he and Ron struggled to restrain the large boy to the wall, “I’m sorry, Harry, we couldn’t stop him from casting in time…”

Turning towards the Slytherins, he gave a soft comment to “get yourselves comfortable” before stalking towards Mclaggen, pinning him with a cold stare, “Why did you do that?”

Mclaggen showed no sign of guilt as he huffed a response, “You countered the spell just fine, and everyone else except the Slytherins are here anyway, what harm could it have done?”

The look on Harry’s face immediately made it clear to everyone else in the room that it was a _very_ wrong answer.

“What harm could it have done?” Harry’s voice was soft, but carried through the room with a frozen edge, “A cutting hex powered too strongly can rip a limb, aimed carelessly can take out an eye or ear, chanted inaccurately can even kill. Are you prepared for the consequences, Mclaggen? Can you bear the guilt of impairing someone permanently simply because you were ignorant for a moment? Are you willing to be called a ‘murderer’? Can you live while knowing that you destroyed a person’s dreams and wishes, that you ripped a family apart? _You have no idea, Mclaggen_.”

Mclaggen gulped nervously as Harry stepped closer. He was much taller and larger than Harry physically, but the raw magic and pressure stemming from the raven-haired teenager was overpowering him.

“Consider this a warning, Mclaggen,” Harry continued, his gazed fixed onto Mclaggen’s fearful eyes, “Next time something like this happens again, I will not dissipate the spell; I will simply reflect it. Maybe that will help you learn to think before you act.”

Turning back towards the crowd, he continued speaking in a gentler tone, “Perhaps I should make some of the rules clear before anything else. Firstly, there will be no House rivalry within the DA. It doesn’t matter whether you’re from Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, you’re all members of the DA. I will not tolerate silly fights between members of DA themselves, or between members and other students in the school. I don’t care whether you have a grudge against someone else, or someone wronged you, sort it out without insults and fights. All DA members will help and support each other. Any questions about this?”

A Third Year Hufflepuff raised her hand timidly, “But- but no one would really want to help us, nobody really cares about Hufflepuffs anyway…”

Harry stared at her for a moment before sighing, “I’ve talked about this with the First and Second Years yesterday, but I guess I’ll have to say it to you all as well.”

Hermione and Neville eagerly shifted to make space for him on the couch, accidentally pushing Ron off his seat. They muttered their apologies with eyes still locked on Harry – they were _really really_  curious about Harry’s little speech (as advertised by Ron).

Harry sat down and swept a glance at everyone, “Tell me, what _is_ Gryffindor, Colin?”

“Courage!” Colin piped out cheerfully.

He gave a small smile before turning to Parkinson, “And what is Gryffindor for you, Parkinson?”

Parkinson hesitated for a moment but decided to be honest, “Impulsive, reckless.”

“Then tell me, Malfoy, what is the Slytherin pride?”

“Observant, self-preservation,” Malfoy answered without a thought.

Harry nodded, and asked casually, “And you, Ron? What did you think about Slytherins before?”

Ron stared at Harry before blushing as he answered truthfully, “Cowardly, Dark and evil.”

“There is no definite description for all Houses, it is a matter of perspective – there is always two sides to the coin,” Harry swirled his wand and conjured crests of the four houses in the air, “Gryffindors pride themselves for courage and determination. But what iscourage when it stands _alone_? Bravery without brains is simply recklessness, without loyalty is aimless, without self-preservation is suicidal. A lion is only strong when it belongs to a pride, knowing who and what to defend, and when to back down. Do you always have to charge ahead to be brave? Must you fight your fears to be courageous? No, sometimes bravery is to acknowledge your fears and to try to avoid it. Why do you fear something, or someone? Because you instinctively know that it is dangerous in itself, or it may harm your family and friends, or simply because it may kill you.”

He manipulated the conjured images to change as he spoke, “Think of the House Crest, silver complements gold,” The golden lion shimmered brightly as the silvery snake slithered around it, “Blue complements red,” The fiery red background flared as the calm blue encompassed it, “and flames renew the earth,” The brilliant red shone brightly for a moment before dulling and the Hufflepuff yellow became a brilliant hue.

“Slytherins describe themselves as ambitious, cunning and with a strong sense of self-preservation. How can you be ambitious without the courage to seek what you want? How do you find cunningness without intelligence? And how to you persevere without someone to support and live for? Some would accuse them of being cowardly for they think snakes slither away and hide in times of danger, but think again, the serpent would strike fast and hard when time needs be, it is relentless in battle when it matters.”

Harry conjured a swirling ball of light mixed with darkness, “Being Dark is not evil, Dark is the energy, evil is the intent. Even the label ‘Dark’ no longer refers to the magical energy itself, it has been given arbitrary boundaries by the Ministry, equating Dark to evil. Some forbidden Dark spells are better healing spells than Light ones, but so difficult to master that it has been categorised as Dark to prevent people from trying it. Perhaps Slytherins simply have a better affinity to master these spells than we do. The intent is most important – one could kill using a Light spell if you intend to do so, and you could save a life with a Dark spell if you want to.”

“And Ravenclaws, they are proud of their learning and wisdom. But you need courage to face your failures to gain wisdom; a sore loser never learns; you have to be ambitious to yearn for learning, and you have to be loyal to ensure knowledge applied well in motive. The eagle is the lord of the skies, it is a strong-willed predator, but even it does not know the limits of the skies, neither does it know the wonders of the earth, so it depends on other beings to impart that knowledge, and it perseveres to survive harsh conditions.

“Hufflepuffs are known for patience, humility and loyalty. Perhaps some people think that Hufflepuffs are not particularly strong at any trait, but that in itself proves them to be a formidable opponent. They have no apparent strength, so you don’t know what to expect when you face them in a battle, and you may easily overlook their powers, giving them the element of surprise. They are patient and humble, making learning a much easier and efficient task for them; they are loyal, so they may be the best comrades you wish to have.”

The images combined to continually shift and melt into each other’s image, “Simply said, your house trait is just one of the many strengths and weaknesses that you possess, only that it may be somewhat more prominent than the others. Of course, it could also be a result of moulding after you socialise with your housemates for seven years. But would you want to confine yourself to the strict boundaries of house traits when you can gain so much more by combining them while emphasising yours?”

Harry paused for a moment, pleased to see many faces in deep thought, “So there will be _no_ house rivalry within the DA; you can be a Gryffindor, but at the same time, you are also partially Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. The same goes for everyone else. Have I made myself clear?”

After receiving nods from them, Harry continued, his tone apparently much lighter than before, “Good, then for the other rules: Everyone must be responsible for their own learning, once you have made a commitment, you have to follow through. You must not gossip around about what we do in the DA, I’d like to keep only those really interested in learning Defence involved in these matters. No one is to use any spell learnt here with the intention to harm someone else unless it is a life and death situation – definitely not during practice or as pranks. If you think that you cannot abide to the rules, you may leave now, or else you will sign the parchment with your name and confirm your commitment to the DA.”

Hermione passed the parchment, already adorned with Harry’s, Neville’s, Ron’s and her own signatures, around for members to sign their names.

As the first person picked up the quill, Harry hastily added, “Oh and just a warning here, that parchment is charmed. If you signed and went against the rules, we will know because the charms on the parchment will point it out to everyone. Don’t worry, you won’t find yourselves with the word ‘SNEAK’ over your faces, we’ve decided on a less obtrusive method.”

Some of the previous DA members snickered at the memory but most of the students in the room signed without hesitation.

As Hermione checked the list of names against people in the room, Ron and Neville started passing out the list of spells that will be practiced for the first few session.

Harry started explaining to them how the sessions are going to work, “For this session, I’ll need to divide all of you into beginner, intermediate and advanced groups to moderate the learning speed; I’ll test you on some of the basic spells and assign you to a group – hopefully, no Seventh Year will end up in the beginner’s group, you do have to take your N.E.W.T.s, you know. So, let’s-”

“These are all defensive-only spells, it’s useless!”

Harry narrowed his eyes as he turned towards the source of the voice – Zacharias Smith. “What did you say?”

“What’s the use of learning these when you can’t even attack your opponent?” Smith sneered, “You can’t keep defending yourself in a battle, you’ll die in the end anyway.”

Harry gave him an assessing glance before breaking into a cool smile, “Then let’s try this. Let’s have a duel, you may use any spells of your choice, and I’ll only use defensive spells. We’ll see how it ends then.”

 _Everything was going according to plan_.


	8. Secrets Revealed

Lucius had to admit there was simply no end to the surprises that Potter keeps springing onto them – he was just prepared to counter the cutting hex when Potter made a motion to duck, but then he didn’t have a chance to do anything because Potter righted himself upwards again and dissipated the spell.

Reflex was one thing, but to inhibit the natural response to move out of harm’s way in a split second decision was extremely difficult, especially for these inexperienced young children.

And the amount of magical power that he released unconsciously as he confronted that boy – Mclaggen, was it? – was almost… _intoxicating_. Power was attractive to all magical beings, to simply be in the presence of a magically strong person or being was the utmost pleasure for wizards and witches sensitive to raw magic. Not to mention the ease of magical manipulation he displayed when he was talking about the four houses, all these signalled that Potter is an extremely powerful wizard.

The puzzling fact was that Lucius had never felt such a strong pulse of magic from the boy before. Of course, children at this age have a constantly growing magical core, but the increase in power should be gradual, even with the magical boost at the age of sixteen, it shouldn’t have been such an easily observable difference.

The confidence he exuded as he elaborated his thoughts on the four houses and their identity easily captured the attention in the room, combined with his thoughtful arguments and magical display, was beyond sufficient to enforce his position as a leader within this group – apparently Lucius’ role in this setting was simply to legitimise the group and its proceedings, he probably wouldn’t have to engage in teaching or much actual monitoring at all.

And now this Smith is challenging Potter? Are Hufflepuffs nowadays this ignorant? Lucius shook his head in bemusement; that Hufflepuff boy was going to learn his lesson the hard way – Lucius had little doubt Potter would make an example out of him.

“Professor, would you mind overseeing the duel?” Potter inclined his head towards him and asked.

Lucius raised his brows as he withdrew his wand, “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Potter.”

Potter gave a quick circling motion of his wand as Lucius moved closer to the pair, only when Lucius looked carefully that he realised the youth had casted _Protego Totalum_ around the other students non-verbally.

Each taking three steps back, Potter and Smith bowed towards each other slightly. Lucius was rather impressed by the stance Potter adopted – an equal distribution of weight on both sides, and majority of it focused on the balls of his feet, enabling him to move in any direction at ease.

Potter shifted his body slightly to dodge the cutting hex sent his way, and a few more spells after that, always side-stepping the path of the spell with a fair amount of grace – unlike his opponent who was already showing a mixture of frustration and slight exhaustion at casting multiple spells continually.

“Damn it, Potter! Stop dodging and hiding! Fight back!” Smith snarled as he threw a fire spell towards him.

Potter smiled nonchalantly and conjured a _Protego_ shield in front of himself, blocking out the flames. Shrugging his shoulders as the fire spell ended, “I was going to wait till you tire and end the duel, but since you say so, Smith…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but leapt forward without warning, conjuring multiple shields to surround his body as Smith reacted to his sudden movement by flinging more spells towards him. Strengthening the shield directly in front of him, the body bind hex rebounded on the blue surface and caught its caster instead, immobilising Smith who didn’t have enough time to dodge or counter the spell.

The shields surrounding Potter dissolved as he stopped in front of Smith, the tip of his wand pointing at his opponent’s throat, “Do you yield, Smith?”

Smith swallowed nervously as he eyed the holly wand aiming at his throat, nodding furiously – probably the only part of his body that can still move at will.

“Good,” Potter withdrew his wand and dissipated the spells, turning towards the other members as he spoke, “If any of you disagree with my decisions, you can choose to challenge me right now, or choose to leave the DA now, I can still spell your name off the list if you decide to withdraw now.”

Most of the younger years were staring at Potter in awe, but some of the older students – mainly the Sixth and Seventh Year Slytherins – turned to look at Lucius for his opinion on the situation.

Deciding to make his position in the DA clear to the members, and as an extra bonus, to stay on Potter’s good side, Lucius declared a non-interference stance: “Mr. Potter has been granted full authority over the organisation and training of the DA by the Headmaster. I am merely here as an advisory role, and frankly speaking, I have not found fault with Mr. Potter’s decision so far.”

Lucius could see an almost immediate softening of the hard glint in Potter’s gaze as he acknowledged his leadership position in the DA – the sparkle in his emerald eyes made his slight appreciative smile seem a lot more wider and youthful, yet retaining a level of respect to be given to a professor.

He couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from twitching – for someone showing such maturity as Potter had for the past few days, he was rather _cute_ when it came to emotional expressions, especially when he was glad, just as he usually is with the Weasley children and that Granger girl.

* * *

 

Harry was in a relatively good mood as he continued to explain the organisation and plans for the DA sessions to come in these few weeks – he hadn’t expected that Lucius Malfoy would actually recognise his authority over the running of DA as publicly as that; well, he didn’t really trust Professor Dumbledore’s promise in the first place anyway.

All those adults had a weird fixation on “preserving his innocence”, forbidding him to ask or participate in important “adult matters”, and refusing to disclose any information that they thought was too complicated for him and his friends to handle. As if he even had any naivety or childish innocence left after growing up with the Dursleys, or after his multiple encounters with Voldemort since he entered Hogwarts, or… after he lost his Godfather.

Even the Order guards their information so jealously, only releasing bite-size information that was close to nothing to Harry and his friends – as if that was useful in preparing him for the battle against Voldemort in the near future. So much for the adoration and expectations given to Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived! What can he do if he didn’t even have access to relevant information and battle training?!

He had thought that a family head coming from a traditional pureblood family would adopt a similar stance, but it seems that he had thought wrong. Lucius Malfoy was more accepting than he had imagined, and to know that there was some sort of trust given to him made him feel all warm and fuzzy inwardly.

Perhaps he should try to foster a better and functional relationship with Lucius Malfoy to learn more about pureblood customs and traditions? But he hadn’t even managed to try to reconcile previous differences with Professor Snape yet – although the man seems to have gotten over his biases and was treating him quite civilly. He really had his work cut out for him this year…

“To make things easier for everyone, we will divide all members into three groups according to your knowledge and grasp of spells. Ginny and Luna will be in-charge of the basic level group, focusing on learning and channelling spells; Neville, Ron and Hermione will take over the intermediate level group, perfecting the control and expanding your spell repertoire; and I will be responsible for the training of the advanced level group, mainly on changing the spell forms and actual battling techniques, under Professor Malfoy’s guidance.”

Hermione, spotting the disappointed looks on the faces of some of the younger students, interrupted him, “Harry will be attending all sessions and giving advice even if he is not actively teaching you. Don’t worry.”

Harry gave her an accusing glare before nodding his head in agreement, “Yes, yes, although I have no idea why you even want me there anyway… We will start with defensive spells and eventually move on to offensive spells depending on the group’s progress in general.”

Handing the duty of explanation over to Hermione as she started elaborating on the skills testing, Harry quietly retreated back to where Ron and Neville both stood.

“Fine, Harry,” Ron reluctantly admitted as he saw Harry coming towards them, “I guess the Slytherins aren’t that bad after all. Maybe- _maybe_ we could work together…”

Neville grinned widely, “Finally, Ron! Took you that long to admit it!”

“But I still don’t like the Slytherins!” Ron added hurriedly, “Really, the things I’m willing to do for you, mate…”

“I know, I know, Ron,” Harry just waved his hand dismissively, “I’ll make sure to remember all your contributions, okay? But somehow I feel that you have made a lot more sacrifices for Hermione than any of us, Ron… something about private shopping and hanging out in a _girls-only_ cafe?”

“Oi! That has nothing to do with this, Harry!” Ron bellowed as his ears turned a bright red, attracting the attention of a few students nearby.

Neville and Harry just burst out in laughter seeing that their friend was slowly turning red all over, until Ron muttered irritably under his breath, “Just wait till the both of you find someone you really like, then I’ll get my chance to make fun of you!”

“Oh no, Ron, I don’t think I’ll be in that position anytime soon,” Harry turned down his laughter to a slight chortle.

“Just you wait,” Ron continued mumbling as Hermione ordered the few of them to help out with the actual grouping of the members, “just you wait.”

* * *

 

**_One and a half months later, mid-October._ **

It has become a habit for Lucius, Severus and Draco to gather in Lucius’ quarters every Wednesday and Saturday night to discuss and share information from Speaker, ever since the mysterious sender made it a custom of sending letters and replies on the specific days of the week. Harry Potter, on the other hand, had become one of the common topics of discussion between these three men before the arrival of the letters due to certain interesting developments at Hogwarts.

The unexpected and intriguing growing relationship between Harry Potter and some of the Slytherins in school – including Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape – has become the hottest gossip topic in school, and the common theme for the three Slytherins to tease each other with, and this particular discussion seems to have extended to Narcissa who have been dropping by infrequently when she needed to talk about Speaker’s letters.

Narcissa placed her teacup neatly back onto the saucer after taking delicate sips, “I have heard that there is a growing intimacy between the lions and snakes in Hogwarts, or should I say, Harry Potter and the snakes, in particular? And I seem to recall an exponential increase in the mention of ‘Harry Potter’ in your letters, Draco?”

Draco was the first to break under her intense questioning gaze, “… We have been spending more time around each other, Harry is my potions partner, after all.”

“Harry?” Narcissa’s eyebrows raised, intrigued.

“Um- W-we are potions partners and both in DA, it’s just natural that we start calling each other by our given names!” Draco’s cheek turned a slight pink, “Even Father addresses Harry by his given name!”

“Oh, really, Lucius?” Narcissa turned her gaze towards her former husband, eyes twinkling in amusement.

Lucius maintained a cool look, “I have been meeting him quite a few times for discussing about DA and actual training, it is probably better to have a good relationship.”

Severus gave up on resisting as Narcissa turned her gentle gaze upon him, “He does show some intelligence, and he is quite helpful… but we are not getting all warm and cozy over names.”

Narcissa tapped her knees lightly as she pondered, for all three of them to get over their Slytherin-Gryffindor biases to acknowledge the Golden Boy was quite an amazing feat; her interest in Harry Potter was growing by the minute. “So tell me, how is Harry Potter like in person? Is he really the Gryffindor Golden boy, or is he as arrogant as Severus used to mention?”

Feeling his Mother’s gaze fixed on him, Draco knew that he had no chance of getting away without giving her a satisfying answer, “Well, Harry is rather… sweet,” Upon catching his Mother’s amused look, he quickly elaborated, “I-I mean, Harry really doesn’t like the fame and popularity of his name, he hates it when someone tries to use his name to gain a favour or likewise. He is sensitive to others’ emotions and offers support or silence accordingly, and he tries to accommodate everyone’s wishes – to the extent that he neglects himself at times – which frustrates all of us to no end, but that all just makes him so…”

“Irresistibly sweet?” Narcissa was amused by Draco’s attempts to explain his feelings, “I understand, Draco.”

Deciding to save Draco from his highly embarrassed state, and seeing that Severus was merely smirking at the flustered state of his Godson, Lucius voiced his own opinions, “I agree, Harry is indeed quite charming. He is unusually mature for his age in terms of knowledge and thoughts, but sometimes his emotions come forward in a relatively uninhibited way that is so cute and naïve, the complete trust and reliance… It is a wonder that none of the students have snagged him for themselves yet. I am sure that you will like him, Cissy, it is impossible not to.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened slightly: to gain such compliments from a Malfoy, Harry Potter must really have a wondrous charm; and to neutralise previous rivalry, his changes must have been pleasantly drastic… Although the way both Lucius and Draco described the boy seems to suggest _a particular kind of interest_ , not that any of them have seem to realise that yet.

“Do you think so, Severus?”

“I will admit that Potter is sharp in potions, and very observant in brewing and research. He knows when to speak and when to keep quiet – something I would not have thought possible for him in the past five years,” Severus would rather die than admit that he enjoyed the awe and dependence expressed by Potter when they were working together on new potions experiments, especially that one time when Potter accidentally fell asleep while waiting for the stirring time – he was absolutely adorable in his half-awake state – not that Severus would ever say that, anyway.

Even the time when Potter came to his door and asked to talk about their unpleasant encounters for the past five years, he had found the boy to be rather endearing. He still remembered Potter shifting his gaze from left to right, refusing to meet his gaze directly, only when Severus allowed him into the room that Potter looked up, very much like a frightful deer; and when they talked further about their impressions of each other and apologised for their own faults (one of the rare times that Severus would actually admit and apologise for being biased), Harry had a relaxed smile that spelled his contentment at resolving the awkward tension between them – a change of impression really opened his eyes to the likeable nature of Harry Potter, but that is something he’ll keep to himself… for now.

Draco frowned as he thought about his observations of Harry in the past month, “But Harry sometimes act weirdly… Have you seen it, Father? He flinches every time someone touches him unexpectedly, but after he gets familiar with the specific person, he seems to enjoy human touch a lot… And he eats so little, we realised that when he joined us at the Slytherin table; once he tried to eat more than usual, he threw up everything a while later. Granger and Weasley mentioned that he had a lot of nightmares as well, apparently sleeping draughts don’t work that well for him.”

Severus’ brows furrowed as he listened to Draco’s description, the symptoms sounded eerily familiar; but Albus has never mentioned anything unusual about the boy’s muggle household, so he assumed that Potter was pampered at home… If Potter’s symptoms really pointed to the fact that he was reluctant to believe, then…

Lucius nodded his head grimly and added, “I have noticed that he had a strange reverence towards authority as well; he gets all too formal and distant at certain points of our conversation, and he looks as though he would like nothing more to lash out at the Headmaster and McGonagall at times.”

Narcissa was worried – she could see the signs of an abused child from their descriptions, a child whose needs were never fulfilled when he needed it, a child who has never learnt to trust adults, a fearful child. And to think that this was the same child that was charming, cute and sweet from their previous descriptions, and the knowledge that he had lost his parents _and_ Godfather… it broke her heart, even without knowing Harry Potter personally.

A sudden noise at the windows broke the grim silence, they turned to see a frantic Gyrfalcon and Harris Hawk beating at the glass wildly, their feathers ruffled and messy as if they just went through an assault.

“Helwiyr?”

“Foiy?”

Foiy was the Harris Hawk that was assigned to bring Draco’s letters after he had sworn allegiance and secrecy to the mysterious letters.

Lucius strode across the room in a few steps and opened the window, watching the birds fly into the room and flapping their wings around agitatedly, followed by a faint swoosh as two other Golden Eagles flew into the room.

“What happened?” Severus frowned as he looked at Gryaif. There was no letter attached to the leg of the eagle, but it kept circling the room in clear panic, just as the other birds were.

Narcissa tried to calm Fuyd down but to no avail, “Something must have gone wrong… but what is it?”

Lucius tried to get closer to Helwiyr but was distracted by the knock on his doors, Severus who was closest to the door went to answer the door.

To his surprise, it was Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley standing at the door, shuffling their feet nervously as they looked at Severus. Chancing a glance at the situation in the room across Severus’ shoulders, Longbottom spoke before Severus could tell him to come later.

“Professor Snape, we-” Longbottom was nudged harshly in his ribs by Weasley, after exchanging a look, his expression became much more solemn, “We are Strangers to these lands, Viper. I am Larkspur. Speaker needs your help, _now_.”

Severus was stunned at the revelation – Longbottom was part of the Sanctuary? And if Weasley knew about it, it is highly likely that he was a member of it as well… Narcissa stepped forward, seeing that Severus was too overwhelmed to answer the boys at the door, “What happened?”

Longbottom paused for a moment before addressing her, a tinge of fear and panic starting to surface in his tone, “Persephone! Please, Speaker is wounded badly, and we have absolutely no idea what to do to save him!”

Lucius placed a firm grip on Draco’s shoulders and directed him towards the door, realising that the birds have flown out of the room a moment ago, “Lead the way, Larkspur.”

Longbottom nodded and both him and Weasley started running towards the stairs, making sure that all four of them are following in pace, making their way up to the seventh floor, leading up to the Room of Requirement. The birds which took off earlier were hovering before the door, cawing angrily and beating their wings against the blank wall.

“Stop it, he’s not getting any better even if you break down the wall!” Weasley shouted at the birds, successfully getting them to move backwards and leave the wall in peace.

Longbottom walked past the corridor three times and a wooden door with a brass handle appeared immediately, as his hand landed on the door knob, he looked at the four Slytherins and requested, “No matter what you see later, ju-just save him before you ask any questions.”

Not even waiting for their response, he twisted the knob and opened the door, stepping inside anxiously and rushing towards the couch in the middle of the room.

The four of them coming through the door was shocked at the scene meeting their eyes – Harry Potter was lying there, his shirt and the couch beneath him covered with his blood, two huge gashes slashed across his chest, his body convulsing under shock and the loss of blood, restrained only by the House elf Dobby and the two boys who have just rushed to his side; with Granger desperately spelling vials of what seemed to be Blood Replenishers directly into his body.

“Harry, can you hear me?” Granger’s voice was hoarse and full of fear, “Please Harry, can you hear me? You have to fight the curse, _please_!”

Severus and Lucius immediately strode over to the boy, studying the curse that is causing the wound to resist healing stubbornly. Narcissa stared in pure terror at the youth’s face twisted in pain and agony before coming back to her senses, taking off her charmed necklace and winding it around his neck. Draco grabbed Harry’s wrist and pinned them down as the boy almost clawed himself in the confusion of pain and physical shock.

“Lucius, have you seen this before?” Severus carefully tried different forms of healing spells on Potter, knitting his brows tightly when he observed that the wounds opened up almost immediately after the spell stitched it up, “… it is a dark curse.”

“Yes, apparently it prevents the wounds from healing up…” Lucius looked closer at the gashes for a while, before tightening his lips, “I have never seen this curse before; we will need to transfer the curse onto another medium if the countercurse is unknown to us now. Is there anything in this room that has been touched by Harry’s magic?”

Granger grabbed a locket from the table and pushed it onto Lucius’ outstretched palm, “Can this work? He just charmed this!”

Lucius frowned slightly as he looked at the locket – the design and spells on the trinket was surprisingly familiar – but prepared to use the transfer spell nonetheless after checking that the locket still had fresh traces of Harry’s magic. Waiting for Severus to ready his wand, he gave the surrounding students a stern look, “There has better be a good explanation for all of this later.”

Granger casted a nervous glance at both Weasley and Longbottom before nodding solemnly, “We understand, Moonshine.”


	9. Enlightening Talk

Harry stirred and gave out a soft sigh as he struggled to open his eyes, looking groggily at his surroundings trying to make sense of the room and people around him. Sensing a shift in the warmth beneath him, he frowned and looked at his source of warmth. Blinking in confusion as he saw a pair of muscled thighs hugged nicely in silk trousers, he looked up, only to find Draco’s concerned face staring at him worriedly.

“D-Draco?”

“Good, you are finally awake, Harry” a voice came from behind Draco.

Glancing at the person who spoke, Harry shot up immediately from his position and looked around the room, only to be caught with a sudden surge of dizziness; a warm hand cupped the back of his head as Draco murmured, “You shouldn’t sit up so quickly, Harry. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Wha-” Before he could regain his senses, he was attacked by a few pairs of strong wings and frantic hugs, “Wha- Who-?”

“I almost thought we’d lost you, Harry!”

“Don’t do this to us again, mate! Seriously, don’t!”

“You scared us to death, Harry James Potter! I told you that charm was a stupid idea!”

Batting away the wings that were getting into his face, Harry had a sheepish look on his face, “I- I can’t help it, Hermione! I told you every one of us who wielded a falcon exchanged our lives with them as part of the bonding!”

“They have only one falcon each, how many do you have?!” Hermione was positively livid.

“Um… Eight?” Harry cowered under her glare, “It’s tradition!”

Even Neville glared at him, “Eight is not a traditional number, you wouldn’t have to follow the traditional bonding procedures! I can’t believe that no one stopped you then!”

Spotting the guilty look on Harry’s face, Ron immediately understood, “They tried to stop you, didn’t they? And you didn’t listen! You brought this onto yourself, mate!”

“… I’m sorry,” Harry apologised softly, his eyes pleading, “But I can’t reverse the charm now…”

“You-you-!” Hermione huffed indignantly, “Fine, fine! Stop making those puppy eyes at me! But we’ll come back to this later, and I mean it, Harry!”

Harry released the breath he was holding, but not for too long as Neville grinned and added, “We’ll leave this issue for later, Harry, because currently you have a lot more to explain.”

“What do you mean?” Harry looked at him curiously, and sighed heavily upon seeing the pointed look Ron gestured towards the other guests in the room, “Oh.”

“Oh indeed, Harry,” Lucius and Narcissa looked fairly amused with the current situation while Severus frowned, “Maybe we can get some explanations now? Such as what is your relationship to the Sanctuary, or why you were down with two dark curses just now, or why the locket Ms. Granger said that was yours resembled the ones we received?”

“I did intend to explain this before Samhain, but this was definitely not the occasion that I envisioned…” Harry muttered as he allowed the four large birds to settle around him, narrowing his eyes at his friends, “Why did you all decide to reveal your allegiances?”

Ron threw him a dirty look, “Harry, you had two gashes across your front all of a sudden with no reason, and you were bleeding to death, mate! We panicked, what else did you expect us to do?”

“And we couldn’t go to Madam Pomfrey either, that was the only thing you said before you went into shock,” Hermione smacked the back of his head, “Did we have any choice then?”

“Anyway, you told us before that you’ve decided to come clean with them soon,” Neville shrugged nonchalantly, “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to be now, would it?” Tilting his head to a side, he added, “Or would you like to talk to them in private?”

“What? No, no,” Harry shook his head, deciding that since he was going to explain, he might as well just explain _everything_ to all of them, “You all should stay, there are some things that I haven’t told you as well.”

The Slytherins watched the exchange with open interest – the relationship shared between Harry Potter and his friends were indeed deep and trusting, they understood each other perfectly; even though Harry wasn’t happy with their decision to seek help from them, he didn’t blame them, rather, he looked a little resigned and accepted it, trying to make the best of it in the end.

Turning his gaze to the Slytherins now sitting across him, Harry sighed and started to speak, “I think the first thing we should make clear is that – I am Speaker, or Si’Ariadw’r, current leader of the Sanctuary, and they are my most trusted comrades, Hermione Granger, codename Cheshire; Ronald Weasley, codename Pyrolis; and Neville Longbottom, codename Larkspur. They are the only ones in the Sanctuary that has full knowledge of whom is whom, including you – Moonshine, Persephone, Typhon and Viper.”

“Speaker- what does that refer to?” Narcissa was the first to ask.

“Harry?” Neville looked worried, “Are you going to…?”

“Might as well,” Harry conceded as he stood up, taking a deep breath as he removed his glamours on himself.

The Slytherins saw the glamour dissolve directly in front of their eyes – although Lucius, Draco and Severus had long known the existence of the glamours on Harry, they have yet to be able to see through it – and was struck by the changes on the young man features. His face remained the same, if only his facial features were emphasised in its delicateness and the fairness of his skin, his ears elongated slightly with a pointy end, and his hair extended slightly beyond his waist. The most stunning of all was his eyes – the expressive orbs reflecting the same hue as the killing curse wore an unearthly aura, a pair of soulful emerald orbs that could almost look into the essence of their very nature and being. His magic flared into existence as his magical shields melted away, flooding the room and tentatively curling around the others, probing and testing each of their magic, before drawing away, swirling around the entire being that is Harry Potter.

Lucius and Severus had known that the boy was magically powerful beneath their shields, but neither of them had guessed that he had hidden away magic that was _that_ strong.

Narcissa gasped in admiration; many magical beings had similar ears, but Harry Potter’s eyes were a dead giveaway to his species, “You are an Elf…” Only the Elven Clan had such beautiful eyes that spoke of their empathy and richness of emotions, but it still didn’t explain the part on _Speaker_ ; “And Speaker refers to…?”

“ _Si’Ariadw’r_ literally means ‘Speaker’ in Elfish, it refers to the line of Beast Speakers in the Elven Clan, those who can communicate with nature and Mother Magic,” Harry explained, “It seems that the Potters descended from this very lineage, although the dormant blood has not been activated in five generations – I’m considered a Halfling in the Elven Realm.”

Their own exposure to magical inheritances allowed the four Slytherins to accept the fact rather gracefully, they just nodded their heads in acceptance, “I see.”

Harry smiled nervously, “You seem to be accepting this easier than I did myself.”

“We knew that there was something different about your scent,” Lucius smirked, “Draco was adamant that your scent was _off_ ; Severus and I agreed not long after that, but we could not find out the reason,” _and now we know._

“Scent?” Harry frowned confusedly.

Lucius raised his eyebrows. _Did Harry not know about it before he recruited them into the Sanctuary?_ “I am a Veela, so is Draco; Severus on the other hand, is a Shadow Daemon.”

Harry was dumbstruck. If they were magical beings, they would have known that he had secrets once they felt his glamours and shields, and he was parading those obvious signs of deception right before their eyes this entire time – he even spent extra bonding time with them in effort to understand them better! He groaned as his buried his face into his hands, he was a complete idiot!

Hearing a muffled laughter from the side, he turned to glare at his friends; he was miffed about his utter failure and these friends of his had the gall to snicker at his expense!

“Great encouragement, guys,” he muttered darkly, receiving chuckles in return.

“You did not know?” Severus had to admit, Harry’s reaction to this was fairly endearing; instead of feeling betrayed and angered at the deception, he knew that Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and himself was actually feeling more amused than exasperated, “But you did de-scent the letters, did you not?”

“What?” Harry looked lost for a moment before shaking his head, “No, that was just a precaution in case the letters were intercepted by magical beings or creatures, the identity spell may not work fast enough to prevent it being scented.”

“What would happen if the identity spell on the letters were triggered?” Draco was very curious.

“It would trigger a tracking spell first, marking the person’s magical signature; then it would trigger a fire spell, and a modified permanency charm to make sure that the letter burns entirely before it can be put out, and my personal hope that it would burn their hands as well,” Harry explained, his gaze darkened with fury, “and now we already have someone to track down, someone who attacked _my_ familiars.”

“If it was your familiars being attacked, why were _you_ hurt by dark curses when your friends came to seek our help?” Narcissa frowned, she didn’t like the image of the boy writhing in pain _at all_.

“I have life-exchange bonding spells with my familiars, I- any magical spells directed towards them will be transferred to me since I have better tolerance for magical attacks than them…” His voice faltered as he caught the look of pure disapproval from the Slytherins.

“Foolish child!” Narcissa was onto him immediately, “Have you thought what would happen if they were caught with one of the Unforgivables? If a particularly lethal spell – just like the one before – was transferred to you, and those around you have no idea how to deal with it… Did you even fathom the possibility of it leading to your death?! You foolish, foolish child!”

Harry squirmed under her outburst, but was pleasantly surprised when she pulled him into a tight embrace, “Such an impulsive, foolish child… Why do you not value your own life? You would be the death of your loved ones…”

Hermione was shocked by Narcissa’s display but satisfied that there was another person to chew Harry out over his familiar bonds and reckless disregard of his own life in place of others. “See, Harry, we told you it was a stupid decision!”

“But what am I supposed to do?” Harry almost whined – Hermione had been bugging him about the spells ever since she learnt of the bonding.

Hermione shifted her gaze to Narcissa who had a hardened determination in her eyes, carding her slender fingers through Harry’s silky ebony locks in silent contemplation as the boy stiffened awkwardly under her touch.

Narcissa knew she would have a soft spot for Harry Potter after hearing so much about the boy from the three Slytherins, especially from the letters Draco sent to her regularly (he had gotten into the habit of describing his time with the Golden Boy and ranting about the blatant disregard of his own welfare); but she didn’t expect herself to fall under the boy’s charm so quickly. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing him jerking and twisting in agony, or perhaps it was the soft pleading look he sent his friends and even Draco when he was arguing with Granger, or maybe it was the encompassing warmth of his magic that embraced everyone in the room – she just couldn’t bear to see him throw his life away for someone, or something else.

She had sensed the youthfulness in the letters she received from Speaker albeit his efforts to maintain a formal tone, what she had not revealed to the others was that she and Speaker had grown close over their exchanged letters – he had revealed his doubts and concerns over the Sanctuary and the war, his worries over the alliances, and a desperate desire for guidance and emotional comfort, and she had offered him that – Draco had grown up too quickly for her liking, she had hoped that her baby would rely on her more, but Lucius could not allow his sole heir to remain dependent on them and naïve to politics and power plays, especially to survive and maintain a solid position in Slytherin at Hogwarts. She had come to view Speaker almost as her second child, and that affection has apparently merged with the Slytherins’ descriptions and transferred to Harry Potter upon her learning of the truth.

“We will find a way to negate the effects or transfer the agent,” Narcissa’s gaze gave Harry no choice but to nod his head in agreement.

“Mother, you are scaring him,” Draco mused from his seat.

Harry gave him a half-hearted glare, a small pout starting to form before he realised and stopped himself, “I am not afraid!  Why should I find your Mother fearful, Draco?”

Narcissa smiled softly and sat down beside Harry, _such a cute little child._

Draco merely smiled in return. Lucius, on the other hand, decided to continue asking, “How did you come to form the Sanctuary, Harry?”

Harry pondered for a while how best to explain the situation, and finally decided that he should just start at the beginning, “On my sixteenth birthday during the summer, there was a sudden pain all over my body – I don’t know how I should describe this, but it was… it was like I was on fire, like being burned alive… I didn’t know that receiving a magical inheritance was that painful…”

Lucius stopped him halfway, “Because it should not be. Was there anything else out of ordinary?”

Hermione, Ron and Neville froze at the statement. They had thought the pain and heat Harry described to them before was a natural process for creature inheritances, but if it wasn’t… the three Gryffindors fumed in silent anger – Harry has already suffered a lot more than any of them, he didn’t need to suffer any more than necessary, especially if it was induced by some other person with their personal intentions!

Harry frowned in fierce concentration as he tried to recall the exact feelings during his inheritance, “Erm, I don’t remember much, but it felt like my magic was ripping my body apart, and that it was so hot, like my blood was boiling… I don’t-”

He didn’t manage to finish his sentence as Severus stood up and marched up in front of him, whipping out his wand and waving it over Harry in intricate patterns, murmuring something beneath his breath.

“Wha-” Harry stared at him, “Professor?”

“Is it…?” Lucius moved to his side.

“Some traces of magical binding,” Severus muttered, his brows tightly knit, “Someone bound his magic before this.”

Harry stared at them in confusion, lips slightly parted as he tried to comprehend their meaning. Narcissa placed a comforting hand on his lap and explained softly, “A magical binding is a spell that restricts the amount of magic you can access, it severs your magical core to constrain its growth and use; if it was used for an extremely long duration, the weaker ones may become a squib entirely.”

Lucius nodded his head in agreement, “It is likely that your magical inheritance forcefully broke through the spell and returned your magic to its full power, but breaking the spell that way places a great deal of strain on the physical body.”

Severus’ firm grip on his shoulders surprisingly calmed Harry as he allowed that piece of information to sink into his conscious awareness, but turned into panic as he heard the man speak, “You should see Madam Pomfrey about that to check if the effects from the binding are entirely gone, Potter.”

Harry looked up at Severus frantically, “Wha- I can’t- How should I-?”

Severus looked at the boy and sighed, he couldn’t insist on his stance with those eyes locking his own with fear and panic, “I will brew the potion to clear the effects entirely out of your system tonight, it will be ready by our next potions crafting session – but you will have to allow me to check your condition then, Potter.”

“What happened after you received your inheritance?” Narcissa asked softly as Harry resumed his seat, giggling inwardly at the obvious signs of indulgence from Severus towards Harry.

“Um, well, I sought help from Gringotts about my family’s inheritances and issues related to magical beings…” Harry didn’t proceed far as Draco interrupted him, “Wait, you mean the goblins at Gringotts actually helped you?”

Harry half-scowled half-pouted at him, “Are you going to let me at least finish a sentence or not?” Draco merely rolled his eyes in return as he continued, “I think it’s because I wrote the letter to them according to the Old ways.”

Ron frowned, “Mate, you didn’t tell us this last time; not even all pureblood families follow the Old ways now, how did you learn them before getting the books?” Neville nodded in agreement, although both their families have not followed the tradition (not entirely anyway), they had some knowledge of it; but Harry was muggle-raised.

Harry smirked, “It was confusing at first, but Elves have shared memories of the Ancient with all kinsmen; not all of the Old ways of course, but the oldest of them, I had to learn the rest from books and some other… _tutors_.”

Sensing that the others were satisfied with his explanations, he continued, “After my inheritance, my magic sort of spiralled out of control so I couldn’t stay at Privet Drive; my accidental magic was making all our lives difficult. I created an illusion back in my bedroom so that the Order doesn’t come checking up on me, and I left. I actually came here to Hogwarts after that, you know, she helped a lot.”

“She?” Severus enquired.

Harry looked confused for a moment, as if he didn’t understand what Severus was asking, before explaining clearer, “Hogwarts. The castle is sentient, the amount of magic accumulated within these walls over the years is enough to make Hogwarts magically aware, and she likes magical people, especially children – she’ll grant your request if you ask, usually, I guess?”

Lucius and Draco were less surprised; Malfoy Manor has a tinge of sentient behaviour as well, although its history is nothing comparable to Hogwarts’.

“Hogwarts agreed to hide me during the holidays, and I found some _interesting companionship_ during that time as well,” Harry had a soft smile as he thought about his two secret tutors over the summer, eyes brightening with excitement, he asked them, “Did you know that the Founders’ portraits are still hidden in Hogwarts?”

“What?” Draco blurted out indignantly.

Severus frowned, “No one could find the portraits of the Founders in anywhere of Hogwarts, it was assumed that it was long lost. I take it that you found the portraits then?”

“Yes and no,” Harry replied cheekily, since he’s gotten to know the snarky Potions professor better, he’s been more carefree in interacting with him, and apparently the man has also unofficially accepted and given him permission to do so. Receiving the exasperated glance from Severus, Harry continued, “I didn’t find the portraits of Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw; but I found the shared portrait of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. It was hidden in Gryffindor’s chambers, I had to follow the snakes from the Chamber of Secrets all the way up the other end of Gryffindor Tower to find them.” Hogwarts provided him a much faster secret passage after his first encounter, though.

“A shared portrait?”Lucius’ eyebrows rose, “I thought they were rivals.”

“You can ask them their story when you meet them, but it’s not mine to tell,” Harry shrugged, “I didn’t even tell Hermione, Ron or Neville.”

“You were absolutely impossible about that, Harry,” Neville groaned as he remembered how they tried to fish the information out of him.

“Yeah, good luck to you all for trying to get the information from him, Harry’s guards his secrets tighter than a clam,” Ron snorted.

“You can just ask them when you meet them, guys! Really!” Harry threw his hands up, “You’re not going to believe me if I told you anyway!”

“Fine, fine, Harry,” Hermione waved her hand impatiently, “Get on with the story, Harry, and you better get to the part that you didn’t tell us soon!”

Harry contemplated what to include in his explanation and what not to, and continued his story, “Godric and Salazar taught me a lot of skills they deemed appropriate for me – the Old ways, the proper decorum that a Head of Family should display in public, defence spells, spell-crafting, potions-making, physical combat… stuff like that, and after-”

Hermione interrupted playfully, “Harry, I can’t believe you’re skipping all the good parts! I thought you said you wanted to tell all of us _everything_?” Since Harry has started to include the Slytherins into their little circle here, she has all the right to share a few juicy details of Harry’s encounter with the two founders.

“Wha-” Harry stared at her, dreading what was going to come next.

“You did say that Slytherin and his snakes gave you biting comments each time you made a slip in table manners or when you slouched and dragged your feet, didn’t you?” Hermione started counting off, followed closely by Ron, “Yeah, mate, and I can’t believe you actually survived potions remedial with Salazar Slytherin! I’d rather take my chance with a dragon than working with three cauldrons all day! Exploding experimental potions and fumes? Nah, I’ll risk the dragons.”

Neville grinned, he too has gotten a lot more comfortable with the Slytherins – well, maybe not that well with Professor Snape, but still – since Harry started going off to spend time with them, and now that they will likely be working closely in the future; of course, Harry’s sharing of some of their exchanged letters was just a bonus to understanding them better, “Oh right, Harry, you did say that Gryffindor refused to give you a break unless you got the dodging and physical combat skills right, didn’t you? What was the record, you say – four hours of the same move?”

Feeling a heat smothering his cheeks out of embarassment, Harry grumbled, “Mature, guys, _real mature_.” The entertained look on the Slytherins’ faces made his face burn even more.

“Anyway, they trained me for the entire time until September; and Godric finally found a way for me to contact the Elven Clan. The Elven Seer came in response to my call, and- I went to the Elven Realm, together with him, for about a full month,” Harry studied his friends’ faces closely as he spoke, worried that they might be offended that he kept this part of his summer to himself, “Are you guys angry with me?”

Neville nodded his head in understanding as the three of them exchanged glances, “Not really, Harry, we sort of figured out you spent time with your Elven kinsmen… You know, you’re never a good liar, Harry, we could read it from your face,” He grinned at the dumbstruck look on Harry’s face.

Draco, Lucius and Severus agreed. During this past month they have noticed this extremely Gryffindorish nature of Harry – he couldn’t lie to their faces at all. He could leave out details, play a few pranks or jokes, but he would display subtle hints of guilt and uneasiness when he was trying to hide something large from them. Draco distinctively remembered that look every time Harry gave a vague answer to his questions on his past summers.

“But Harry,” Hermione frowned as she thought, “You said that you trained with Gryffindor and Slytherin until September, and you didn’t have to time to sneak off campus since the term started – when did you go to the Elven Realm?”

Harry gave her a knowing look, “How ever did you get around with your Third Year schedule, Hermione?”

“Oh,” Hermione smiled in comprehension, “Then where did you get the time-turner then, Harry? I don’t suppose you asked for one from Professor McGonagall?”

“Godric was talented with Time Magic, he had a few trinkets in his chambers,” Harry grinned, “So I gained an extra month before the start of term to spend in the Elven Realm.”


	10. A Fruitful Night

“I’ve heard that the Elves were not entirely friendly with humans,” Narcissa pondered, “Is a Halfling treated as a full Elf then?”

Harry smiled bitterly, “No, a Halfling does not belong; The traditionalist court refuse to acknowledge the Lost Children; the other factions were generally neutral but they didn’t want to involve themselves either, only the Royal Clan takes the issue of the Lost Children very seriously. The majority of the elves ignored me most of the time, only the The Academians and The Muses were willing to teach me, and they were the only ones who adopted Halflings into their city and families.”

Harry’s friends were full with sympathy, they knew how much Harry longed to belong somewhere – growing up with the Dursleys gave him a painful desire for a home to belong, and Hogwarts couldn’t exactly be considered a home. While the Weasleys have all but adopted him into the household, he had admitted to them before that he still felt a little out of place during their family gatherings; compounded by his loss of Sirius and the lack of regular acquiesce with Remus, he still yearned for a place to truly call home.

“Oh, Harry…” Hermione sighed, she just hoped that Harry could have sought some comfort from any of them about these issues.

Harry gave her a reassuring smile, “It’s not that bad, Hermione, they’re better than the Dursleys; the Muses were extremely friendly to me.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at the mention of Harry’s muggle relatives, although he knew better than to ask about it in an outright manner – based on Draco’s description, Harry is extremely dodgy on the topic; and abused children are often uncomfortable talking about it. He exchanged a glance with Lucius, both agreeing silently to file his comment away for later discussion and, possibly, questioning.

“The Muses?” Hermione started to have the academic glint in her eyes.

Harry chuckled at her apparent interest, “The Muses are the Elves with the inherent ability to weave magic and power into song and dance; and their healing abilities are the strongest of the Elves; they’re incompatible with combat magic though.”

Narcissa smiled softly – she could guess that Harry had made friends with the Muses, the way he spoke about them was the exact contrast to his previous explanation on Halflings; he almost glowed in tender happiness and mild excitement.

“One of the Beast Speaker – Faela – took me in and taught me how to control my abilities and contain my magic. He magically adopted me into the Royal Clan, and I had to try to access all the shared knowledge of the Ancient in five days – massive headache after that – and The Muses tutored me on elemental magic and…” He made a face, “ _dancing_ , of all things.”

Hermione and Neville looked amused while Ron spluttered, “Dancing? Mate, after the Yule Ball in Fourth Year, I thought you…”

Harry glared at him, “I know I have two left feet, Ron, I don’t need the reminder.”

“You weren’t all that bad back then, Harry,” Hermione assured him, “At least you managed to finish the dance…”

“I’m so comforted, Hermione, really,” Harry rolled his eyes, but gave Hermione an appreciative smile anyway, “Somehow the Muses can work wonders: anyone can dance perfectly after they force you to dance all day long with them for three days in a row.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Hermione mused.

Harry rolled his eyes again but decided not to respond to the comment, “Books and stories of magical creatures are far more accurate and detailed in the Elven Realm, it was then when I was able to communicate with the Unicorns, Pegasi, Dragons and other beasts, and including them in the Sanctuary.

“The Sanctuary was actually an idea given to me by the Goblins, when they helped me sort out my inheritances and estates. Ragnok liked to tell stories of alliances of the Old, and he was adamant on re-creating the ancient alliance in face of the upcoming war between the Light and Dark – most of the magical beasts and beings were ignored by the wizards and witches, the Ministry is too afraid of the unknown to strike a deal with them, and Voldemort thinks of them as unworthy or as dispensable pawns for his cause.

“But I only started to establish the connections and safe houses for the Sanctuary when I learned to Speak,” Harry smiled adoringly as he petted the falcons preening under his ministrations, “The Goblins made contact with the larger groups of magical beings while I tried to befriend some of the magical beasts, and I followed their contacts to negotiate with the other magical beings and enact an alliance.”

Harry turned to look at his friends in clear appreciation, “And when I came back to school, I told Ron, Hermione and Neville about it. They agreed to join and extend our contacts to other wizards and witches that are likely to be more receptive to the notion of working with magical beings, or require protection from Voldemort and such.”

“They actually agreed to include us in the Sanctuary at the beginning?” Draco was surprised, the relationship between the lions and snakes weren’t that all close at the start of the term.

Ron’s cheeks burned as Harry gave him a sly look, “Ron ranted and raved about it a lot, but in the end we came to an agreement.”

“Ranted and raved?” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Please, Harry, he could have brought the whole Gryffindor Tower down if not for your silencing and shield spells.”

Ron, on the other hand, shook his head and muttered lowly, “ _Agreement_? Agreement my arse…”

“More of a forceful coercion back then,” Neville chuckled, “Magical aggression versus physical aggression, of course Harry won. But we have a consensual argument now, anyway.”

Lucius was appalled – to think that a group such as the Sanctuary completely created and managed by a single teenager, albeit with the help of his friends and mainly the Goblins, was simply unimaginable. “So who have you managed to recruit into the Sanctuary?”

Harry’s face scrunched up in concentration as he recalled, “The Unicorns, Pegasi, wild Dragons, Hellhounds, Wood faeries, the Thestrals and Hippogriffs in the Forbidden Forest, and the Centaurs have just agreed to lend their abilities. I’m not sure about the Merfolk, they haven’t made a decision yet; and most of the Werewolf clans are inclined to help our cause. Ragnok is trying to locate the Nymphs; and I think the Vampires have agreed to a general alliance, but we haven’t discussed the details yet, I-uh-I’m not exactly comfortable talking with them…”

“Do not tell me you went to the vampires alone,” Severus frowned.

Harry turned a meek look at the professor, “I- I went to the Vampire Coven with Goldfire.”

“And pray tell who this Goldfire is?” Severus rubbed his temples, he had a bad feeling.

“A Goblin warrior,” Harry peeked carefully at Severus as he attempted to cover himself with Gryaif’s spread wings.

“Reckless boy!” Severus glared fiercely at Harry, staring the meekly-looking teenager down, “Do you have any idea how dangerous a Vampire Coven is? Vampires are not courteous gentlemen, they are opportunistic hunters – they attack and feed on unaware prey! They could strike when you let your guard down before you can even blink, immobolise you under their thrall and feed to their hearts’ content! And you dare go in there with only a single Goblin warrior as an escort?! Have you any idea how large a risk you took?”

Harry cowered under his outburst, but he understood that he was at fault here – Ragnok almost chewed his ears off after checking him for mind spells, unseen injuries, extended thrall, and possible bloodloss or contact traces, and Faela actually set the beasts on him when he learnt of the incident.

“Severus, do not be so hard on Harry,” Narcissa admonished him, “I am sure he understands his mistake without you fawning all over him.”

Severus gaped before controlling his emotions once again, and quirked his brows, “I did not fawn over him, Narcissa, I was merely reminding him of the recklessness that will hopefully be restrained in the future.”

“Yes, and that is enough, Severus,” Lucius smirked, he agreed with Narcissa – Severus may try to think of it as a reprimand, but they knew that it was his own way of showing his concern towards people he care for, “At least Harry did not try to engage with the Incubi Nest.”

Harry nodded his head furiously, “I don’t think I’ll survive that, sir, I definitely won’t try going to the Incubi…”

“You better not,” Severus added, “ _at all_.”

Draco snickered softly, his Godfather rarely expressed his frustration outwardly – actually, he rarely experienced concern and frustration over someone in general – Harry must really have made a place in the man’s heart.

“Who are the wizards and witches you have gathered for the Sanctuary, apart from ourselves?” Lucius went on asking.

“Remus Lupin, he is currently negotiating the finer details with the Werewolves; Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Professor Flitwick, and Sterein Romboski,” Harry counted them off his fingers, “That’s all, I think. Although I’m thinking of including the Weasley twins, then they can work on expanding the line of warding and shield trinkets.”

“Sterein Romboski?” Lucius wasn’t sure he heard of the name before.

“He’s a solicitor in private practice, the solicitor for the Potter family, in fact,” Harry explained, “And he is extremely knowledgeable in Magical Law regarding magical beings as well.”

Lucius nodded in agreement, a Law practitioner would be highly useful for legal issues regarding some of the changes they would like to carry out for the Wizarding World. Severus asked instead, “I am surprised that you invited Shacklebolt into the Sanctuary, I would have thought Mad-Eye Moody a better representative for the Aurors and Hit-wizards.”

“Um, well- I don’t think Moody would believe me if I contacted him like I did all of you, Dumbledore would have known about it in an instant,” Harry’s lips tightened, “Moody wouldn’t believe it at all even if I told him all about it, he doesn’t trust me. Something about ‘bloody teenagers’ and them poking their noses into ‘things that are _none of their business’_.”

“Language, Harry!” Hermione swatted her hand at him.

Nodding slowly, Severus understood. He would have agreed with Moody less than two months ago, but since he had really gotten to know Harry in this year, he had revamped his previous impressions – Harry was not a helpless child nor was he an insufferable brat with overblown ego, he was a fine young man with a definite goal and a clear resolution, he had proven himself intelligent and willing to learn, displayed his obvious talent and skills for all things magical – He could actually trust the teenager to prove his worth and fulfill the prophecy, although he still thought it was cowardly and unsightly for the Wizarding World to place the burden on a young man who has yet to finish his studies.

Narcissa, however, was more intrigued by another revelation in Harry’s words, “You do not wish for Dumbledore to learn of the Sanctuary and your condition, Harry?”

Harry hesitated for a moment before nodding his head cautiously.

“Why is it so?” Lucius was not that surprised, he did sense some sort of tension between Harry and the Headmaster back when he overheard the conversation between them regarding DA after all.

Harry bit his lower lip as he pondered whether to reveal his thoughts to them; Hermione frowned as she observed them closely, giving Harry an encouraging pat on the back when she was convinced that they were genuinely interested and wouldn’t use it against Harry.

“I don’t trust Professor Dumbledore,” Upon seeing Severus’ questioning gaze, he added hastily, “Please don’t get me wrong; I respect Professor Dumbledore for what he has done for the Wizarding World – his vision and efforts for the Light side of the war, his triumph against Grindelwald, the founding of the Order of the Phoenix – but personally, I can’t bring myself to trust him anymore…

“Professor Dumbledore- he betrayed my trust,” Harry stated bitterly, “He kept me in the dark about things I should have known, he refused to help keep me away from the Dursleys, he ignored me for most of the time last year when we were all suffering under that sick woman Umbridge; for Merlin’s sake, he didn’t even try to clear Sirius’ name! He knew how much Sirius hated Grimmauld’s Place but he forced him to stay there anyway; he knew that the Dursleys despised me more than anything and he sent me back to them every year!” Harry grew more and more frustrated as he blabbered out his thoughts on his relationship with the Headmaster.

“I’m sick of it! Every time I go to him for help, he sends me off with nothing after giving me a speech on the Greater Good and my role as _the savior_ – I don’t even know why I bother going to him in the first place anymore! For the love of Godric, I looked up to him, I worshipped him! He was the closest father figure I had before Sirius! And he- I-” Harry broke down in tears, he hadn’t had an opportunity to vent his emotions regarding his Godfather’s death, or the revelations of Dumbledore’s deceptions, or the fact that he would never have a normal life ever again; and he simply couldn’t handle the onslaught of emotions right now.

Narcissa cradled him close to her chest as she murmured soft assurances and encouragements to him; she was sad, the child had suffered too much a loss for his age; at the same time she was furious, how dare someone treat this sweet little one so crudely and carelessly?

Hermione, Ron and Neville looked at each other helplessly, they couldn’t do much to help Harry in his current emotional state. They couldn’t even share much of his burden – Elven heritage, the Prophecy, his newfound powers and alliances – the comfort they could offer was limited. They had family members to seek for help, but Harry had no one yet he was starved of affection. They didn’t try to object to Narcissa’s ministrations, she could offer maternal love that Harry had never had the luxury of enjoying before.

Draco stiffened as Harry’s broken sobs was heard continuously from his Mother’s embrace; he had known that he harboured tender caring emotions towards the dark-haired teenager ever since he started to observe Harry as a potential mate to Court. Harry was sweet and understanding, powerful yet compassionate, courageous and slightly cunning – a perfect mate he could ever ask for; although a growing friendship is all he’s going to pursue now.

Severus and Lucius shared a grim look, both of them were familiar with the subtle manipulations of the Headmaster. The old man had a tendency to overlook smaller details in favour of the Greater Good; he would ask Poppy to be ready during nights when they were summoned by Voldemort, but he would never try to keep them from attending the Death Eater meetings, nor would he try to find a way to remove the Dark Mark from both men. They were simply too valuable as spies for the Order.

Narcissa fumed silently as Harry’s sobs slowly died down, the things she would do to the Headmaster if she gets a chance – to place her two best friends in dangerous situations, and to hurt an innocent child; it was simply unforgivable.

After he finally calmed down, Harry’s cheeks had reddened to a brilliant colour. Peeking out from Narcissa’s embrace embarrassedly, he muttered an apology.

“It is no problem, dear, it is none of your fault,” Narcissa soothed him, “I would have been more worried if you kept all these emotions bottled up; do not be embarrassed, although that look on you is rather… _endearing_ , Harry.”

Harry’s eyes darted around the room, desperate to escape the awkward atmosphere as he changed the topic, “Um- Has Voldemort mentioned about his future plans? He doesn’t seem to be doing anything right now, it’s quite unnerving…”

Lucius glanced at his son for a moment, and decided that they might as well try to get the problem done with once and for all, “The Dark Lord did mention an Initiation Ritual during Yule, he is expecting Draco to join his ranks by then.”

Draco grimaced at the reminder, he was definitely not going to grovel at the Dark Lord’s feet!

Harry looked thoughtful, “Then it probably wouldn’t be safe for both of you to attend Death Eater meetings by then, would it?” Licking his lips nervously, he turned his gaze towards Lucius and Severus, and gestured at Lucius’ left forearm, “I have a theory about the Dark Mark and Voldemort’s summonings, but I haven’t had a chance to look at the Dark Mark before… Professor Malfoy, may I…?”

Lucius was a little uncomfortable with the request but it was probably his only way of getting rid of the Dark Mark. He pulled back his sleeve and stretched his arm, exposing the ugly mark marring his left forearm before Harry.

Harry bent forward to look closely at the Dark Mark, a frown starting to form on his fine brows.

Lucius shuddered as he felt Harry’s warm breath on his skin when the boy started hissing at the mark. The Dark Lord’s parseltongue was harsh and forceful, sending chills down their necks whenever he hissed something to Nagini or used parselmagic; Harry’s parseltongue, however, had a soft undertone to the seductive sibilants, the flowing serpent language almost felt like a lover’s whisper as it rolled off his tongue – the difference in the effect of parseltongue brought on by different speakers was astounding – and Lucius had a rather abrupt realization of the boy’s attractiveness, specifically his effects on Lucius himself.

Harry’s fleeting touch on his mark, the soft hissing and the consequent breath ghosting across his skin, his focused gaze and attention on Lucius… with the current intimate distance, he could catch the boy’s scent clearly – sweet and rich vanilla that spoke of his innocence, a tinge of cinnamon marking his hidden fiery nature, the warm earthy scent that was purely Elven, and mixed scents that reminded him of forest and nature.

Combined with his increasing understanding and appreciation of the boy’s personality and talents, Harry Potter was _simply intoxicating_. Lucius could feel his Veela instincts starting to rise to the surface of his consciousness in a desire to Court, while Harry remained completely oblivious to his effects on the man.

 _{Speak to me,}_ Harry hissed to the snake on the Dark Mark, invoking his Beast Speaking powers when the snake didn’t make a response to simply parseltongue.

The snake seemed to move slightly and a soft hissing came in return, _{How curious, a youngling who is a Speaker yet knows our tongue? What do you need from me?}_

 _{I wish for you to leave this man’s arm. Is that possible?}_ Harry questioned.

The snake slithered slightly towards the right of the mark, _{I am part of the mark, youngling. I cannot leave the position, I have a duty to fulfill.}_

_{Do you know who commands you?}_

_{I know it is another Speaker of our tongue, youngling. He reeks of dark intent and malicious power,}_ The snake hissed in what Harry presumed to be an irritated tone – as much as a snake can be – as it continued, _{He speaks not to us, but only to our Marked and he does so in a condescending way – how dare that foolish half-man treat us as non-thinking simpletons, mere decorations! He was the one to bind our spirits and soul to the mark, that vile being!}_

 _{What do you mean?}_ Harry queried further.

The snake’s hissing become more erratic, _{That thing with only half a life, he sought magical snakes and used us as sacrifices in whatever ritual he did, binding our life and soul to this mark he created, and using us to link these people to him, making him the Master of their soul and magic!}_

Harry was silent for a few moments before he continued, _{I think I may be able to give you a life when we attempt to remove the mark, would you be willing to work with us?}_

_{Your offer is an honourable one, youngling; but the man would die if I am removed.}_

_{Why so?}_ Harry frowned worriedly.

 _{The man’s soul and magic is bound by this mark I am. You will have to find a way to break the magical link between us before you can save the man,}_ The snake hissed back, _{I would advise you to advance quickly, youngling, the Master will sense a break in the bond very quickly if you choose to do so. Regarding the nature of us and the mark, we can seek knowledge and information from those who bear us as a mark, so you might want to speak to the snake beside us.}_

Harry tightened his lips in thoughtful contemplation before turning towards Severus, “I think I need to confirm something, Professor, may I look at your Mark?”

Although Severus couldn’t understand what Harry gathered from the Mark on Lucius’ forearm, he could see the absolutely serious look in Harry’s eyes. Silently, he pulled up his sleeves and allowed Harry to take a closer look.

Harry bent towards the Mark but caught the snake hissing at him first, _{I heard you speak, youngling. Such a pleasure, so few can speak this regal language anymore.}_

Harry held back a small chuckle at the snake’s almost sneer-like comment.

 _{My Marked knows not of a way to separate us from themselves, but his knowledge on the fluids he calls potions could provide a way of temporary separation,}_ The snake paused for a few moments, _{I see you are not troubled, youngling. Perhaps you already have a solution to this?}_

 _{Indeed,}_ Harry smiled, _{Quite the observer, aren’t you? Just like the one you are Marked upon, snarky observers who know everything but relish in seeing all of us fall first, before giving your valuable input.}_

The snake replied in an amused tone, _{You are most delightful company, youngling. I look forward to speaking with you often.}_

Draco was intrigued by Harry’s expression as he stepped back from Severus, “What’s so funny, Harry?”

“The snakes have rather interesting personalities,” Harry grinned, “Apparently they share a bit of whomever they are Marked upon.”

“And what do you find so amusing about my personality, Potter?” Severus raised an eyebrow as his sleeve covered his left forearm once more.

“I didn’t say that it was your personality which was funny, sir,” Harry turned an innocent face at him.

“Brat,” Severus muttered as he rolled his eyes, but his tone was mild, “What did you learn from the Dark Mark then?”

“Hermione mentioned that the Dark Mark was probably a variant of the Protean Charm, so I researched about it over the summer and with input from both Godric and Salazar, we sort of agreed that it was a Protean Charm enhanced with a sacrificial ritual to bind the mind and soul,” Harry started, “The Snakes on the Dark Marks are souls from magical sacrifices Voldemort made that served as a linkage between the bearer’s magic and soul, binding them to, for the lack of a better word, the Master.”

“If the snakes are sentient, would the Dark Lord not use them as means to spy on the Death Eaters?” Severus frowned in contemplation, if this was true, their status as spy for the Light would be easily, if not already, jeopardized.

Harry shook his head, “He doesn’t acknowledge them – they are just a tool to him. And since they are no more than spirits – wait, scratch that, they are not even spirits – he can’t speak to them in parseltongue. I only succeeded because I am a Beast Speaker.”

“And your solution?” Lucius knew from the lack of concern on the boy’s face, he probably had thought out a way to remove the Mark already.

Harry grinned and fished out a piece of parchment from his satchel at the side of the couch, handing it over to Severus. Severus raised an eyebrow at him but took the paper anyway, reading the information scrawled across it.

“A Magic-Severing Potion?” His brow rose further upwards, “How do you intend to make this work?”

“Even if the Dark Mark is connected to your magic, it would be detected as foreign magic because it was introduced by another person, in this case Voldemort, and since the sacrifice is a magical snake, it would also have a different magical signature from yourselves, sir,” Harry explained, “If we applied the Magic-Severing Potion to the Dark Mark, it can temporarily separate the different magical auras and force the foreign magic out from the host, so as to speak. I will be able to remove the sacrificial magic and then we can remove the Mark just like any other ordinary marks. Are you able to brew this potion, Professor?”

Severus studied the ingredients and procedures of the potion while making a mental inventory check against his own potions store, nodding his head as he confirmed, “It should be ready in a moon.”

“Precisely how are you going to remove the Mark, Harry?” Lucius had a feeling that Harry was deliberately keeping something out of the conversation.

Harry smiled sweetly at him, “Well, professor, that is for me to do and for you to find out then, isn’t it?”

Lucius smirked, “How Slytherin of you, Harry.” The Elf was definitely sneaky in his own devices; keeping his inheritance a secret from Dumbledore himself, spending his summer right under the nose of the Headmaster without being discovered, creating the Sanctuary and new alliances without alerting both the Light and the Dark camps... Harry Potter was one Gryffindor with _very_ Slytherin tendencies.

“If Draco here had been a little more civil when we first met, I suppose I’d be clad in green and silver now, sir,” Harry grinned playfully, revealing his little secret.

“What-?!” Severus spluttered, “What do you mean, Potter?”

“The Sorting Hat did want to put me in Slytherin, you know, but I’ve heard so much about going Dark and evil in Slytherin, and Draco acted like a real prat back then, I absolutely refused to go to the snake pit.”

“Wha- I never- you-” Draco stuttered, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that he could have ended up housemates with Harry if circumstances had shifted a little, “But you can’t argue with the Hat!”

Harry snorted, “The Hat is rather negotiable, Draco. You just needed to try...”

Lucius stared at Harry for a moment, before turning to an equally dumfounded Severus, “How could you have ever missed that, Severus? He is the ultimate Slytherin!”

Severus took no heed of Lucius’ words, “Why have you never shown such thoughtfulness before?” He was starting to regret the loss of a potential potions prodigy in the past five years.

“I _am_ the Gryffindor Golden Boy,” Harry stated wryly, “Recklessness and blind heroism is rather the job description, isn’t it? Plus the fact that I didn’t know anything about magic and the Wizarding World before coming to Hogwarts, I didn’t understand how things could be done here.”

Severus and Lucius filed away yet again a little piece of information for consideration later; perhaps they should try to obtain a rough idea about the situation from his friends before trying to confront Harry himself about his life before Hogwarts? His friends didn’t seem to be surprised at that particular revelation, they could assume that they were at least partially aware of his life at his muggle relatives.

“Really, mate, can we stop all this talk about you being in Slytherin now? It’s giving me the creeps...” Ron ruffled his hair as he asked uncomfortably. He may be accepting the fact that Harry is now friends with the Slytherins, but he would rather not imagine his best friend living in the snake pit instead of the lions’ den – although he might admit that Harry was rather sneaky for a Gryffindor, but well, that was expected of the second generation of Marauders!

Harry rolled his eyes and replied good-naturedly, “Fine, for your fickle mind and precious sanity, Ron...”

Draco bristled slightly at the red-head’s careless use of the term “mate”, but suppressed a scathing remark – it wouldn’t do good to antagonise Harry’s friends now, since he intended to woo and Court Harry in the near future.

Deciding to move the discussion along, Narcissa prompted, “So, the Founders?”

“You probably have some questions for them, and these few had been nagging me since the start of the term,” Harry gave his friends a pointed glare, “I’ll be meeting them tomorrow night, would you like to join me then? You can confirm for yourselves whether the both of them are friends or enemies with them personally.”

“That’s really not the main point, Harry,” Draco drawled, but Narcissa cut him off, “That would be lovely, Harry dear, when should we meet you?”

Harry contemplated for a while, “After dinner, probably around eight o’clock? Can we meet at your quarters, Professor Malfoy? It’s the closest to where we need to go to.”

“Very well,” Lucius nodded his assent as he checked the time, “Off you go to bed now, I would not like to be the one deducting points for you being out after the curfew.”

Harry startled from his seat, “Wha- What time is it now?!”

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but he waved her off, “Never mind, I don’t really want to know how long I’ve been out cold… Damn it, I didn’t even finish the charms I needed to make!” He groaned with his face buried in his hands.

Severus raised a questioning brow, “What charms?”

Harry pointed at the desk littered with small pieces of metals and precious stones, as well as a few incomplete lockets, and moaned in despair, “Oh Merlin, I haven’t sent out the letters to Remus and the Vampire Coven, and the list of questions to Sterein… I’m screwed. I hate my life.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Neville patted his back.

“The Vampires and Sterein, maybe,” Harry looked miserable, “But Remus? I don’t think so. The last time I didn’t stick to the scheduled time, he stormed the Gryffindor Tower the next morning, Neville! Surely you remember!”

Ron blanched as he remembered that incident of an over-protective werewolf believing his cub was at danger – it was a nightmare in itself, “We probably shouldn’t sleep late tomorrow, right?”

“Right you are, Ron,” Harry nodded his head in defeat, “What are my chances of getting away after telling him what happened tonight?”

“With the curses part?” Ron shuddered, “Good luck, mate. If you don’t make it to classes tomorrow, I’ll make up an excuse for you.”

Hermione smacked him over the head, “I’m sure nothing will happen, Harry, don’t worry.”

The Slytherins merely watched in fascination as the Savior of the Wizarding World moaned and whined about his foreseeable doom the next day.


	11. Meeting the Founders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of mpreg in this chapter.

“Good morning…” Harry staggered over to the Slytherin Table in the Great Hall, greeting the few Slytherin Sixth Years already present at breakfast, before sitting down and banging his forehead onto the table top.

Since he started befriending the Slytherins, he had taken to the habit of sitting together with them for meals a few times in a week (“More like breakfast every day… Really, Harry, do you need to be there with _them_ every day?” Ron had whined once or twice before being silenced by a whack on his head by Hermione). The rest of the school was shocked at the start when he first made his way over to the Slytherin table, claiming that the snakes have somehow lured the innocent Saviour into the snake pit with malicious motives; but since he was now the worshipped Chosen One on the pedestal, they quickly muffled their accusations when Harry frowned at them disapprovingly and emphasised his efforts in house unity – or rather, their lack of effort.

While Hermione, Ron, Neville and other friends have supported him in befriending the snakes in class and the DA, none of them have felt comfortable enough to sit with an entire table of Slytherins yet. Harry didn’t mind it that much, he was comfortable only because he knew some of them were reluctant to offer their services to Voldemort, and that he was half a Slytherin himself.

The Slytherins, on the other hand, although were a little apprehensive at the beginning, but slowly begin to warm up to him, especially after observing his newfound talents in many different subjects, and after training with him in DA, declaring him an honourary Slytherin.

“You look bad, Harry,” Pansy frowned, “Did anything go wrong last night?”

“This morning, in fact,” Harry lifted his head when Draco nudged him, obediently accepting the plate filled with food from Daphne – he had learnt his lesson not to go against the girl’s mothering instincts when he tried to refuse the first time –, “Smothered by an enraged wolf, nearly thought I might die of suffocation.”

Blaise was amused, “And just what did you do to attract the wrath of a wolf?” Giving Draco a pointed glance when he spotted the blonde smirking in a knowing manner.

Harry merely scowled in response, “I’m not giving you blackmail material, Blaise, I know better than to expose my secrets and weaknesses to a Slytherin.”

Blaise mock pouted, “And here I thought Gryffindors were supposed to act first, think later.”

Draco grinned, “Not a chance, Blaise, you’re talking to a potential Slytherin here. The Sorting Hat wanted to send him here back in First Year.”

He had to bite back a wince as Harry kicked him rather forcefully under the table – judging by his friends’ smirks on their faces, they saw it anyway – when the Chosen One spoke in a deceptively light tone, “Tongue feeling a little loose there, Draco?”

Theodore raised his gaze from the book in front of him, “Really? The Golden Boy, epitome of Gryffindor, almost became a Slytherin?” Closing his book and studying Harry in silent contemplation, “Hmm, I think I do understand, but what made the Hat change its mind? Gryffindor and Slytherin aren’t that similar, after all.”

“He won the argument with the Hat,” Draco grinned as Harry mock glared and pushed the food around in his plate, muttering something about “bloody Slytherins” under his breath.

Blaise dropped his spoon in surprise, “You managed to argue with the Hat? You’re gaining more and more of my respect now, Harry… Wait a moment, it means that there was a chance we might have had the best Seeker in a century in our House, playing for our team? Damn it!”

Harry hid a smile as he pushed the blame onto Draco, “You have Draco here to thank for me ending up in Gryffindor, Blaise. You might have been my Quidditch Captain if things were changed.”

“More like you’ll be my Quidditch Captain…” Blaise muttered before turning to Draco with a playful glare, “It’s all your fault, Draco, we might have had the Quidditch cup for the past few years, you know.”

“My fault?” Draco drawled, “Blaise, you’re the captain, shouldn’t you take the responsibility for failing to get the cup instead of blaming your players? You don’t see Harry blaming Weasley for poor Keeper skills, do you?”

“Don’t criticize my team, I’m happy with them,” Harry pouted.

“That’s because they still win,” Blaise groaned, “Come on, Harry, can I swap Draco out for you?”

Draco smacked him on the arm as Harry replied in a mock serious tone, “I don’t think Draco can survive being in Gryffindor, too much red and gold for his fragile eyes…”

“Hey, I resent that statement,” Draco glared at him, “Red and gold is too pompous, green and silver is so much more elegant.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “A pompous git criticizing my House colours, wonderful. Just you wait, I’ll spell your hair and robes red and gold one day, _pompous indeed_.”

Pansy giggled, “Tell me when you’re going to do that, Harry, I’ll make sure to get pictures of him that day.”

“Of course, Pansy,” Harry smirked, “After all, what’s a prank if you don’t document them for future blackmail?”

“I really understand why the Hat wanted him in Slytherin, now,” Theodore stated, “Are you sure you won’t get a re-sort into our House?”

“Nope, I like my red and gold common room too much to part with it,” Harry shrugged, and stared down at his plate, “Draco Malfoy, stop piling food onto my plate!”

“You’re not eating enough,” Draco replied simply, “I know you can stomach this, it is as much as you ate two days ago.”

Daphne gave him a stern glare, “Finish the food on your plate, Harry, we have to correct your diet. I swear you’re only half of Draco’s weight.”

Harry gave Draco a horrified look, “You’re _that_ heavy?”

“I’m not heavy, you’re too light,” Draco snorted, “Malfoys are never out of shape.”

“Well said, son,” Lucius approached the bickering group halfway to the Teachers’ Table, “What was the weight issue about?”

“Professor Malfoy,” Daphne took the initiative to answer, “Harry is unconvinced that he is underweight. We were trying to get him to finish his plate.”

“I see,” Lucius took a glance at Harry’s plate, frowning as he spoke, “Is that a second serving? Looks a little less than expected,” He left out the “especially for growing teenagers” comment.

“You see,” Pansy started, “You can’t eat lesser than I do, you’re a boy, you know. Unless you have some unspoken secrets…?”

Harry looked terrified that she would even suggest that, “I’m definitely not a girl, Pansy! How could you even think that? Ugh, fine, I’ll finish this up, seriously!”

“Now, now, that wasn’t too hard, was it?” Daphne looked pleased.

Harry swallowed his mouthful and glared at the Slytherins, “If I throw it up later, all of you will be responsible for it!”

As Lucius made his way back to the Teachers’ Table, he made a reminder to himself to get Severus to check the boy over when he takes the potion to remove the remnants of the magical binding, and possibly to brew a few nutrient potions to get Harry’s weight back to normal.

Now that he was aware, Harry is indeed clearly under the average height as compared to his schoolmates. While Lily had a petite form, she was well over the average height, and James was one of the tallest students in his year, if Lucius recalled correctly. Perhaps it was because of the magical binding restricting his growth? But his Elven inheritance should have taken care of that – the Elves are well known for their slender and tall figure…

He repressed the more instinctual urge to take a closer sniff at the younger male for any more signs of growth stunt or physical vulnerability – damn the Veela to raise its hormonal head at such a timing – painfully gaining insight on his attraction to the young yet mature Elf, and the desirability of Harry as a lifelong partner in general. Perhaps he should express subtle signs of Courting to keep other unwanted bachelors away until Harry was a little older?

Yet he wondered, if the signs of Harry’s malnourishment were so obvious to a few of the snakes, why didn’t Madame Pomfrey pick it up earlier? He had heard of Harry’s reputation being one of the most frequent visitors to the infirmary, surely the school matron would have realized it sooner or later?

* * *

 

Harry pushed open the door to Gryffindor’s chambers hesitantly as he called out to the empty portrait in the middle of the room, “Godric? Salazar? Are you there?” Although he knew that they probably wouldn’t mind him bringing trusted members of the Sanctuary into these chambers, he still wanted to be cautious.

The others peered at the room over Harry’s shoulder. It was a sitting room, not decorated extravagantly in Gryffindor colours, but simple and neat with warm shades of brown and blue, with age-old wooden furniture that was apparently crafted to be the best of the Founders’ era, elegant but hardy.

A figure entered the portrait a moment later – a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, with flowing reddish brown hair that was a few shades darker than the Weasleys, and sparkling amber eyes that seem to peer deep into the depths of one’s soul.

“Harry, I nearly thought you weren’t coming tonight,” The man greeted amiably as he spotted the people behind Harry, “I see you have finally brought some company with you.”

The man in the portrait studied the party behind Harry for a few silent moments, before giving an approving nod, “These three are my lions, aren’t they? And those few… are Sal’s snakes, am I right? You have made quite an acquaintance, Harry, I’m impressed.”

“What is this that I hear about my serpents?” A silky voice entered the scene, revealing a tall and intimidating man, with ebony locks and icy blue eyes, peering at the group gathered in the chambers in an assessing way. He spared them a few more glances before making his way to stand beside the other man, allowing the shorter wizard to lean onto his shoulder.

“You did say that I can bring a select few to meet you and further our plans for the Sanctuary… so I brought them here,” Harry rushed out an explanation to the portrait, and turned towards his companions, gesturing towards the wizard with auburn hair, “This is Godric Gryffindor, and the man beside him is Salazar Slytherin.”

He continued to introduce each of his companions to the two founders, ignoring their stunned faces. Salazar gave a smirk rivaling that of Lucius’ and commented, “Do stop gawping, this is unbecoming, especially for those few who call themselves Slytherins. I understand that the Gryffs are incapable of controlling their expressions, but I do expect better from my serpents.”

Godric smacked him lightly on his arm, “Really, Sal, there’s no need to insult my House!”

“Love, you do realize that your precious lions are generally hopeless at etiquette and masks?” Salazar’s hand gently carded through Godric’s hair and trailed down his cheek, “I still cannot fathom why you do not enforce wizarding etiquette classes for your Gryffindors, Ric.”

Those who have barely managed to school their features spluttered indignantly upon hearing Salazar’s term of affection towards the other wizard, staring unbelievingly between the two wizards and a snickering Harry.

“Don’t give me that look, I did tell you that they weren’t enemies!” Harry raised both hands in surrender, “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, anyway, so I thought it was best for all of you to witness their relationship yourselves.”

“But- but-” Ron was at loss for words, opening and closing his mouth for a few times before finally blurting out, “They- They’re lovers?!”

“Indeed, Mr. Weasley, although I would prefer the term ‘lifemates’ to describe our relationship,” Salazar drawled, an amused glint in his eyes, further demonstrating their closeness by pulling the shorter wizard into a loose embrace.

“Lifemates!” Neville gasped – this was a completely different relationship from what they believed the two founders to be; seriously, who started spreading the rumours that they were enemies? And the part about Salazar Slytherin leaving Hogwarts? This was so unreal! “Then what about the rumour of Slytherin hating muggleborns? It that false as well?”

Godric gave a small smile to Neville for his immediate enquiry on related rumours, while Salazar answered him, “I did prefer purebloods from muggleborns when selecting students for my House, initially due to the fact that muggleborns do not adapt well to wizarding etiquette which is compulsory for all of my students.”

“ _Initially_?” Severus raised a brow, “And after that?”

“A number of them expressed a blatant disregard for bond magic,” Salazar sneered disgustedly as he recalled, “They dare threaten the safety and sanity of my lifemate by slipping love potions into his drinks, when they were well aware of our life bond! An atrocious display of ignorance and arrogance, thinking they can challenge or fool the Old Magic! They do not deserve the gift of magic!”

Godric turned in Salazar’s embrace to face his lifemate, circling his arms around the other wizard’s waist and rubbing his cheek against Salazar’s chest. Although Salazar’s tone remained fairly stable, the ominous dark look on his face showed that he still found the notion extremely offending, but his calm composure was steadily returning under Godric’s ministrations.

While the others in the room had a fairly scandalized look on their faces, Hermione was rather clueless, “Bond magic?”

Neville answered her in hushed tones, “Lifemates are held together by bond magic, Hermione. Their life bond is sanctioned by Mother Magic Herself in a ritual, forming the purest promise of love and dedication to each other, a bond that cannot be severed by any means.”

Hermione frowned as she tried to put the pieces together; Lucius pointed it out directly, “That means, Ms. Granger, any attempt to separate the lifemates by external force – be it a spell, a potion – cannot sever their bond, but it will drive them to the brink of insanity, some will be pushed to take their own lives; and it would also incur the wrath of Mother Magic for assaulting Her decision.”

“Oh,” Hermione had an expression of pure terror on her face, covering her mouth as she struggled to take in the impact, “How- How can someone even dare to- Oh Merlin… that is horrible!”

Godric smiled sadly, “You are a muggleborn yourself, aren’t you, Ms. Granger? Not all muggleborns are receptive to wizarding traditions and the idea of magic as a sentient being of its own, I’m glad you are one of those who seem to be able to understand and appreciate it.” Soothing his lifemate who tightened the embrace and buried his face into Godric’s wavy auburn hair, he continued, “After a few incidents, Sal was adamant not to accept muggleborns into Hogwarts anymore; but Helga and I still believed that no magical child should be deprived of their heritage.”

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Salazar has regained his calm demeanour of the cool and skeptical Founder, though he refused to let go of his lifemate, “Enough of these sappy moments now. I am sure you have other issues to discuss other than introducing us, Harry. What is it?” He added an after note after seeing Ron’s continued stunned face, “And do tell your friend there to stop staring, it is ill-mannered.”

Harry took a look at his friend’s face and couldn’t help laughing aloud – Ron looked as though he had just been smacked in the face for no apparent reason, “Ron!”

Ron snapped his jaw shut and glared fiercely at Harry, “Stop it, mate, it’s not like you face revelations that will change your worldview every day! Gryffindor and Slytherin _an item_ … I would never have thought- wait a minute, does that mean that the Heir of Slytherin is also the Heir of Gryffindor?!”

Godric looked fairly amused at his outburst, “The Magical Heir of an ancient bloodline would have to be recognized by Mother Magic… but if you are speaking purely about blood connections alone, then yes, Mr. Weasley, Sal’s descendants would be mine as well.”

“What does that mean?” It was Harry’s turn to become confused.

“Why, Harry, surely you should have thought that we would have children together since Ric is my lifemate?” Salazar quirked his brow and chastised lightly.

“Wha-” Harry stared at him, “But-”

Coming from a muggle-raised background, Hermione immediately understood Harry’s sentiments, she didn’t know better before she came upon related books either, “Um, Harry, didn’t you ever wonder why the Wizarding World is so accepting of same-sex relationships?” Upon receiving a blank look, Hermione drew the conclusion that the other wizard was wilfully ignorant of _some_ of the wonders of magic, “Harry, homosexual couples are able to conceive children if they are magical – the inability to procreate is one of the main reasons for shunning homosexuality in our own society…”

Harry’s unbelieving look made her unsure if she should continue with the topic, when Salazar cut in smoothly and took over the explanation.

“Oh my, such innocence, my young Heir,” Salazar drawled, “I am wondering now if it was a good idea to leave out sex education from the syllabus, one would have thought that a healthy teenager at the age of sixteen would be well acquainted to such things… If you should choose to engage a relationship with a male partner, Harry, you would be capable of having your own children, especially so with your Elf inheritance.”

“But- how-” Harry was extremely unsettled, while the rest of those in the room were chuckling (inwardly and outwardly) at his undignified expression.

“Magic, Harry,” Godric swatted Salazar and answered before his lifemate could continue terrorising the young Elf, “Although some weaker wizards or witches may require the aid of potions, if you are magically strong enough, conception and pregnancy is possible naturally between same sexes.”

Harry nodded slowly as he tried to internalize this piece of information – he wasn’t sure of his preference yet, actually, he didn’t really feel any sort of attraction before; Cho was a complete mistake, as proven by the outcome – and an absent question popped into his mind, “So you mean you could get pregnant then… was it you or Salazar?”

Godric was pleased at first to see his Heir accepting the fact without much resistance, thus was totally unprepared for the question. He promptly blushed and spluttered when Salazar’s hand stroked down his sides gently and purred suggestively, “What do you think?”

The Slytherins smiled in understanding – no way was Godric Gryffindor the dominant one in their relationship – while the Gryffindors looked reasonably scandalized, with Harry covering his ears and chanting to himself, “Really don’t want to know… there’s no need to know…”

“Yes, I agree, there is no need to know,” Godric smacked Salazar’s hands away as the other wizard murmured nonchalantly, “It was him who asked the question, is it not? I am just answering his question…”

Harry covered his ears more tightly at that, “I wasn’t thinking, I’ll take the question back, you didn’t hear me asking anything!”

Godric ignored his smirking lifemate and turned to his Heir, changing the topic at hand, “So how is your little defence group doing now, Harry?”

“The basic group is progressing slowly, and the advanced group have started on the offensive spells, but the intermediate group isn’t doing well,” Harry reported dutifully, after all most of his lesson plans were created according to their recommendations, “I admit their training _is_ a bit boring, but they aren’t putting in enough effort.”

Godric smiled, he had his own batch of students like that when he was instructing DADA and Battle Tactics classes. “So?”

“I’m thinking of creating maze courses as practice once or twice a month,” Harry frowned, “But I haven’t gotten very far in planning the obstacles yet… And I’m not sure if I should let all groups participate.”

Godric thought for a moment and gave a suggestion, “Perhaps you should plan something else for the basic level group, but you could get the advanced level group to plan for obstacles in the maze for the intermediate group, and make that an assessment in itself?”

Harry’s eyes brightened up at the idea, “Great! Then I wouldn’t have to plan for it, I really hate planning, it’s so… Oops,” giving a sheepish look at the others standing behind him, “You did not just hear me say that.”

“Too late, Harry,” Draco smirked.

“Don’t worry, we knew that all along,” Ron piped up and snickered.

“You’re not supposed to know my next plans for DA either,” Harry groaned, “So much for a surprise… Isn’t there anything I can spring on the advanced group without them knowing it beforehand?” Somehow the members of the advanced level group will always manage to guess his ideas for their training and assessments before he even mentioned it.

“You can’t hide anything from us, Harry,” Hermione giggled, “We can read it off your face.”

“And you really shouldn’t leave the books you’re reading lying around if you didn’t want us to know,” Draco continued, “We _are_ Slytherins, after all; we read beyond the lines.”

“Well said,” Salazar seemed immensely proud at Draco’s statement, “I take it that there is quite a number of snakes in the advanced level group, then?”

“Half of them,” Harry whined, “It’s impossible to catch them off guard at all! Is there even a way to sneak up on them?”

“There are a few ways, it’s a matter of timing,” Godric started but was immediately muffled by Salazar’s hand, “You still have much to learn, my young Heir, perhaps you should try learning some tricks from their professors there.”

Both Lucius and Severus gave a typical Slytherin smirk at the statement. Harry was smart and innovative, but he was still a tad bit straightforward for a Slytherin, no wonder most of the Slytherins he dealt with regularly could read him rather thoroughly.

In the end, to allow Harry to discuss further details about his plans for the DA and the Sanctuary, Salazar engaged the four Slytherins in an intellectual discussion of Potions and the Dark Arts in another portrait, while the Gryffindors busied themselves with Godric’s impressive collection of tomes on Defence, Battle Tactics and Magical Creatures.


	12. Transgressing Boundaries

“You know,” Harry commented as he received several incredulous stares from the people walking by, “Judging by those looks, I must be getting a bad reputation walking with you guys.”

Draco’s response was a highly raised brow, “Why don’t you say that we’re getting ourselves a bad reputation walking with _you_?”

It was a Hogsmeade weekend and Harry was in the village with a few Slytherins – along with Neville – instead of Hermione and Ron; Ron had been seriously lagging in his school work and Hermione has finally brought it upon herself to force her boyfriend into the horrifying abyss of studying (catching up, more likely).

“ _Me_?” Harry shook his head and sighed dramatically, “Dearest Draco, your overblown ego must have finally gotten to your head – The Chosen One giving you a bad reputation? You’re losing a sense of reality.”

Draco snorted but it was Pansy who replied, “True, Harry, but since you’re the one who chose to visit Hogsmeade with us, it’s essentially your own fault for any bad reputation whatsoever.”

Harry gave her a mock glare, “I could always argue that I had been coerced into this.”

“What? No sense of loyalty to friends and all?” Blaise made a gesture to faint, “I’m so hurt!”

“Am I supposed to care?” Harry shrugged and exchanged a playful look with Neville, “Blaise, you are not really high on my friend hierarchy – in actual fact, you might even be on the lowest rank out of everyone here.”

“I’m really hurt now,” Blaise mock pouted at him, and turned to Neville, “Isn’t a friend supposed to stand up for one another instead of backstabbing?”

Neville paused for a moment and smiled slightly upon receiving a look from Harry that spelled ‘EVIL’, “Can’t comment on that – I will gladly sacrifice you if it meant getting me a better position in Harry’s ranks, even if I’m already on relatively higher status than you.”

Theodore smirked at Blaise’s stunned look, “I’m starting to wonder if all Gryffindors are actually Slytherins in secret…” He was actually enjoying his experience with these few Gryffindors that they were mingling with.

“Nope, I assure you,” Harry fluttered his lashes innocently, “We’re all pure Gryffindors at heart.”

“Pure Gryffindors my arse…” Blaise muttered under his breath.

Harry turned a deceptively kind look at him that shut him up immediately, “You said something, Blaise?”

“Now, now, stop terrifying Blaise, Harry,” Pansy intervened, “Have you thought of what you’re going to perform for the Ministry Party yet?”

Harry’s gleeful expression instantly turned sore, “I haven’t got a clue what to do yet. Stupid Ministry and their stupid functions…”

The Ministry has issued invitations to all top scorers for the different O.W.L. subjects, Harry himself have been awarded the highest marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and all these top scorers were expected to attend the Celebration with a performance that showed off their magical abilities.

“At least yours is DADA and Charms, Harry,” Neville frowned, “What am I supposed to do with Herbology?”

“Place a Devil’s Snare under the Minister’s seat,” Harry suggested offhandedly, “And then set a Fire spell or Bluebell Flames on him, with the excuse to make the Devil’s Snare retreat?”

“Ha ha, very funny, Harry,” Neville rolled his eyes.

Harry thought for a while, “What about your Mimbulus Mimbletonia? Isn’t it a rare plant? Or using growth spells on seasonal bouquets?”

“Hmmm,” Neville pondered for a moment, “Well, yeah, maybe that would do…”

Harry nodded and yawned slightly, “Have you decided what to present for Potions, Draco?”

Draco placed his hand on Harry shoulders and steered him towards the direction of Gringotts lest Harry wandered off unknowingly again – not the first time anyway, “I’m still discussing it with Uncle Severus. For DADA, why don’t you ask Father for his opinion?”

Harry paused momentarily, “Good idea, I’ll ask him later, I guess.”

“Mother wants to know what you’re going to wear to the party,” Draco commented, “I think she might be planning to expand your wardrobe a little more.”

“But she already got me two dress robes and three casual robes, why in Merlin’s beard do I need more?!” Harry was horrified.

Pansy clucked her tongue softly, “Tut tut, Harry, a self-respecting wizard never has enough robes. But I’m more curious about… when did your mother grow so close to Harry, Draco? Is there something between you that we should know about?” She asked, winking suggestively – the Slytherins have sensed Draco’s growing interest in Harry for a while now, but they weren’t sure about Harry himself.

“Huh?” Harry frowned, he was worried that he might have accidentally exposed the secrets of the Sanctuary.

Draco understood what Harry was thinking, but he was well aware of the nature of Pansy’s question, and knew that it didn’t even have the slightest connection to the Sanctuary. Sighing at Harry’s naivety at romance and love interest, he replied, “There’s nothing for you to be concerned about, Pansy; Harry’s wardrobe is absolutely pathetic, and you know that as well as I do, and I’ve decided we should recruit Mother to help with his lacking fashion sense.”

“Hey, I do have a fashion sense, you know!” Harry argued.

“You mean baggy clothes and worn trousers? Or your one and only dress robe that you wear to every event?” Draco raised his brow quizzically, “I seriously doubt your fashion sense, Harry.”

Harry refused to give him a response to his comment, opting to increase his pace towards Gringotts, until he heard some noise coming from the more isolated alley behind the shops.

“…I didn’t do anything! Why are you picking on me?!”

“Hah! I’m not picking on you; you’re stinking of Slytherin muck! The Bestilles have always been in Hufflepuff, how would you have ended up in the snake pit, you little blood traitor!”

Harry frowned, and the Slytherins have obviously heard those words as well, as they silently treaded behind Harry, following him towards the source of the voices.

“I’m not a blood traitor!”

“Then why are you in Slytherin?”

“My family supports me whichever House I am in, what gives you the right to call me a traitor! You aren’t better than me either, my brother is in Hufflepuff, and you’re still picking on me!”

A dull thud signalled a punch dealt out.

“I’m helping your brother to discipline you. Hmmm, seems that a few punches didn’t seem to make the slimy snake see who’s in control here… _Gla-_ ”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry sprang out of the corner, pointing his wand at the boy who was intimidating the Slytherin girl, with a force strong enough to blast the boy’s back into the wall, and flicking his wand to the other two boys that were present, disarming them as well.

The girl seized the chance to escape, running past Harry before any one of them could react, with one hand cradling her jaw and the other locked against her body, tears trailing down her face which was starting to swell.

“Smith?” Harry advanced towards the boy rubbing the back of his head at the force of impact, realizing that it was one of the DA members – Zacharias Smith. Eyes blazing in fierce anger, he held his wand pointed towards Smith, “What is the meaning of this, Smith?”

Smith gulped at the menacing aura that Harry was exuding, but refused to meet his gaze, simply snorting disdainfully in response.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Do I have to remind you that I specifically stated in the rules that there will be _absolutely no_ House rivalries in the DA? That I will _not_ tolerate any petty fights, pranks or bullying by any member of the DA?”

Smith stubbornly avoided his gaze.

“You’re not happy with the rules?” Harry continued, an icy tone entering his voice, “If you have the capability to defeat me and take over the DA, by all means, you are free to change the rules. But until that happens, _my word is the rule_. And all violations of my rules will be punished.”

“Whatever,” Smith drawled, “What can you do to me, anyway? Lines? Detention?”

“You have no idea, Smith,” Harry smiled coldly, “I will announce your punishment tonight with everyone in the DA. Your wand and your lackey’s wands will be in my possession until you turn up and accept the punishment tonight. Oh and do turn up, mind you, I might not be able to control my temper if you don’t.”

“Wha- you can’t do that!” Smith spluttered.

Harry threw a pinning glare at him, “You don’t have lessons today, so you won’t need your wand; then of course I can.”

“I’ll tell the pro-”

“Oh, please do so, I’m terrified,” Harry rolled his eyes, and the Slytherins smirked – the professors would undoubtedly take Harry’s side if Smith went to them, he has even successfully wormed his way into Professor Snape’s heart; and it was Smith in the wrong anyway –, “Just a suggestion, you might want to stay out of the way at the moment, I trust you don’t have too many enemies that will exploit your moment of vulnerability?”

He didn’t even bother to wait and look at Smith’s reaction before he turned and left, tucking the three wands into his robes and returning his own into his wand holster.

“How are you intending to punish them?” Theodore was immensely curious. This was the first time since the first DA meeting that someone actually violated the rules – although he was caught before the jinxes on the signed contract got him – and they haven’t seen Harry nearly as angry since the first meeting when McLaggen attacked them.

“You’ll just have to wait till tonight when I tell everyone,” Harry changed the time and date of meeting on his master coin to 8 o’clock at night, and dropped it back into his pocket, “Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for you guys, would I?”

Pansy pouted, “You’re spending too much time with Draco, Harry!”

“I’m spending a lot of time with all of you…” Harry shrugged, “Must be the bad influence coming into play.”

Blaise smirked in response, “We only helped in bringing out you Slytherin tendencies, you already had the hidden snake under your lion’s appearance…”

Harry glared at him, but he couldn’t find an appropriate retort, finally huffing indignantly, “No House rivalries!” And with that, he stepped into Gringotts, ignoring the rest of them.

Pansy and Blaise grinned, they really enjoyed riling Harry up; the boy was just so cute when he found himself at the losing end of the argument – his eyes would be sparkling and his cheeks a slight tinge of pink, pouting ever so slightly yet attempting to look cool and indifferent, Draco’s classic description of this state was _“sweet”_.

“The Day’s Blessings, Griphook, may the Mother look upon us in favour,” Harry greeted the goblin at the counter, earning a smile – or rather, a grimace, in others’ eyes – from said goblin, “Good afternoon, Lord Potter, may your Gold flow and enemies fail in vain.”

“I see you’re not having a good day today?” Harry cocked his head to a side as he studied Griphook’s expression.

“There were better ones,” Griphooks muttered, “Are you here for regular business? Or should I ask for Overlord Ragnok?”

“I just need a few things from my vault today,” Harry pondered for a while, “But could you remind Ragnok that I’ll be needing the new batch of gems soon?”

“Of course, it will be my pleasure to serve the Mother’s favourite childe, Lord Potter,” Griphook hopped down from his seat, “I shall lead you down to your vaults.”

The Slytherins were astonished at the exchange between Harry and Griphook – goblins were usually, at best, neutral to wizards and witches, never once did they see someone being treated so friendly by the goblins, Harry Potter was indeed very unique. Despite learning that Harry had allied with the Goblins and sought out their help more than once, Draco still didn’t imagine the relationship between Harry and the goblins to be so… amicable.

 _But well,_ Draco thought with a smile, _Harry was special in all ways possible, that’s part of his charm._

As Griphook led him down to the carts, Harry asked meekly, “How is Goldfire now?” He remembered that Ragnok was absolutely furious at Goldfire when both of them came back from the Vampire Coven – well, he got quite a bit of scolding himself, but he hadn’t had a chance to see Goldfire since then.

Griphook gave him a disgruntled look, “He’s been in training with Overlord Ragnok for a while now.”

Harry understood the underlying message – Ragnok has been using Goldfire as a training dummy; given the fact that Ragnok was a ruthless Goblin warrior, Goldfire probably won’t be feeling well for this whole while. “But it’s been about two months since then!”

“Vampires, Lord Potter,” Griphook’s gaze was painfully stern.

“We came back safe and sound…”

Griphook narrowed his eyes, “ _Vampires,_ Lord Potter. You are still too young, but Goldfire should have known better than to bring you there alone.”

Harry obediently kept quiet after that statement, knowing that Griphook’s tone brooked no more arguments. _Good luck, Goldfire, I tried, really I did._

* * *

 

“How is Harry’s condition now?” Lucius stirred his tea and asked Severus, while waiting for Harry to arrive for their weekly discussions on plans for DA; Severus was invited this time since Harry mentioned something about creating a survival course for the advanced group and wanted his opinion.

Severus frowned slightly as he considered Harry’s health status, “I have given him three sets of nutrient potions to improve his food intake and suppressed growth, but it seems that he is not improving as well as I would have predicted.”

Although they haven’t found a time to confront Harry’s friends about their knowledge of his treatment at home, the two Slytherins have more or less confirmed that Harry’s experience at his muggle family’s house was less than pleasant – Severus was fuming by the time he read through the diagnosed results of Harry’s body conditions: all signs pointed towards a prolonged abusive environment and malnourishment.

“Hmm,” Lucius pondered silently for a while before continuing, “How long do you think it will take before he can regrow some of his bones?”

Based on the diagnostic charms Severus performed, Harry had a few poorly mended bones that might create some complications in the future. But they haven’t told Harry yet – none of them wanted to break the news to the boy that some of his bones have to be vanished and regrown with Skele-Gro.

“Probably after Yule,” Severus briefly calculated the time needed for all nutrient potions to take effect.

Lucius frowned but nodded, “He will have to learn about this soon, it would not be a very pleasant experience.”

“We could ask Narcissa to do it,” Severus suggested, “She may know better how to convey the message to Potter than we do.”

Lucius agreed. After Harry revealed himself as Speaker and started having a closer engagement with all of them regarding issues of the Sanctuary, Narcissa had apparently taken on the role of a foster mother, smothering Harry with letters, gifts and affection. More importantly, she had a knack of making bad things sound at least acceptable.

For now, Lucius was more interested in Severus’ reluctance to address Harry by his name – he is sensing, rather vaguely, that Severus is more emotionally invested than he usually is, and his motives are by no means innocent. “Why do you insist on calling him Potter?”

“And why are all of you so insistent on addressing his name?” Severus scowled, he didn’t like the way he was affected by the boy, “I agree that he is tolerable and rather intelligent, and I do not mind working with him, but he is _still_ a Potter.”

Lucius sighed. Severus and his grudge against the James Potter and his Gryffindor friends… “He is Lily’s son as well, and I am sure you are well aware that he is very different from his parents too. You sound like a stubborn schoolboy insisting that you hate someone because you actually like him, Severus.” Oh well, if Severus still refuses to admit his feelings, he is not going to encourage competition for Harry’s attention in the short future; he was still considering when is the best time to introduce his Courting intents, especially with his son as a potential rival – he is not as blind as his son thought him to be.

“Wha-”

Before Severus could continue, Harry had arrived. He poked his head through the door and looked around, and stepped into the room while greeting them, “Good evening, Professor Malfoy, Professor Snape.”

“Come in, Harry,” Lucius conjured a few more cushions onto the rug in front of the fireplace; he had learnt that Harry preferred sitting and lunging around on the floor before the hearth from previous discussions with the teenager, and he was more than willing to indulge this behaviour.

Harry headed straight towards the fireplace and sat on one of the blue cushions, folding in his legs neatly, not forgetting to grab another one onto his lap.

Lucius raised a brow intrigued, it seems that Severus’ presence made Harry maintain a certain level of decorum – he used to simply lounge onto a bed of cushions when he came into Lucius’ quarters to discuss plans for DA before. He could nearly feel his inner Veela preening in delight at the implication that the young Elf was possibly more comfortable in Lucius’ presence.

“Professor?” Harry tilted his head in slight confusion, seeing that both professors seem to be immersed in their own thoughts.

Both Slytherins quickly snapped out of their own musing, focusing on the boy, “Yes? You mentioned a maze course for the students in DA; what are your plans so far?”

“The maze itself can probably be provided by the Room of Requirement, I’m still considering whether it’s a good idea to bring in magical creatures or not, but we could get the advanced level members to set up traps and trick spells around the maze,” Harry turned towards Severus, “Professor Snape, I wanted to ask whether there might be potions that could be added to the maze?”

Severus nodded slowly, “That would depend on the desired effect, Potter. What do you have in mind?”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed softly in consideration, before continuing, “Something to induce a weak illusion or to slightly impair their senses to hide the more obvious signs of active magic, and possibly something else to immobolise or hold back their progress as one of the traps… I haven’t talked to the other members yet, so I can’t guess what are the other potions needed to aid in placing the tricks and traps.”

“A Dampening Potion for your first request, and I assume a temporary Muscle-Relaxant Potion would suffice for the next? There will be some adjustment required for both potions, but applicable nonetheless.”

“Um… Sir?” Harry was a little hesitant.

“Yes, Potter?”

“May I help in brewing it?” Harry knew that Severus had been rather permissive of his requests and occasional challenges, but he was still testing the waters, especially when it came to potions – Severus is extremely meticulous and has a rather particular schedule for potions-making, he wouldn’t want to overstep the boundaries he was allowed.

Severus regarded him closely before speaking, “If you would like to do so, I will arrange it for our next brewing session.”

Lucius smirked at Severus’ response, if he had attempted to make such a request that disrupted Severus’ original plans for brewing his potions, he was sure that Severus would have hexed and cursed him into oblivion after giving him his patented death glare. As much as Severus would like to pretend that he was indifferent towards Harry, his actions apparently stated otherwise; he just wondered whether the potions master would realize his attraction towards the boy before Lucius decided to start Courting the Elf.

“Harry, are you going to limit the spells to those known to the beginners and intermediate groups?” Lucius asked.

Harry frowned in serious contemplation, “I’d rather not, most likely they would face unknown or unidentifiable spells in actual duelling or battle, they’ll have to learn how to deal with it. But nothing too harsh, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” Lucius agreed, “No doubt you will have to set restrictions to spells that the advanced group is able to use, but the approach is good.”

Their discussion went on for nearly an hour, working out the finer details of the maze course – the scoring system, the restrictions, other traps that the professors could create – with Harry eventually relaxing and lounging between cushions as he used to during discussions with Lucius.

Severus was rather amused, the only time he had seen Harry this relaxed and uninhibited was when he fell asleep, he was usually quite tense and uptight during their brewing sessions – beneficial for the intricacies of potions making, of course – to see him entangled between the bed of cushions and the thin blanket that Lucius summoned from the rooms halfway through discussion was an interesting experience. From Lucius’ expression and the fact that he conjured the items for Harry without asking, he could guess that their interaction has always been like that; ignoring the little unease and the slight spark of frustration at this realization.

“Harry, stop dozing off,” Lucius reprimanded the boy, leaning forward to thread his fingers through Harry’s hair, his thumb pressing lightly against Harry’s temple, “I believe you have announced a meeting for the DA tonight?”

Harry muttered something under his breath, and struggled to sit up, stretching a bit to get rid of the warmth-induced sleepiness. He always felt sleepy after talking to Lucius in his rooms, was the fireplace warmer than the Gryffindor common room? Or perhaps it was because he could lie down before the hearth without caring about proper decorum?

“Do you need us to be there for the meeting?” Lucius pulled Harry to his feet, his hands brushing across the small of Harry’s back in the process, with the Gryffindor as oblivious as ever.

“Probably,” Harry’s eyes darkened as he thought of the announcement he was going to make during the DA meeting on Smith’s behaviour earlier that day. Turning to Lucius, he asked, “Would it be a bother?”

“Of course not,” Lucius gave him a small smile, placing his hand on the back of Harry’s neck and guiding him towards the door, looking at Severus beside them, he inquired, “Perhaps you would like to join us for this meeting, Severus? I have been informed it is about the punishment for the transgression of Harry’s rules for them.”

Severus’ interest peaked, he had seen the memory that Lucius provided regarding the first DA meeting, and had been adequately impressed by Harry’s duelling skills as well as his little speech. “Potter?”

“Wha-?” Harry stared at him blankly for a while, before he understood what Severus was asking in a silent question, “You are more than welcomed to join us, sir, I’d wanted to ask you to oversee some of the sessions…”

“I see,” Severus followed both of them out of Lucius’ quarters, “I am not adverse to that request. Inform me of your next few meetings with the members.”

Harry was fairly surprised by the response – he had been pondering for weeks how he should make the request to Severus without being offending or imposing, and now his mere suggestion of the idea had already received acceptance? He felt like a moron to have hesitated and gotten all frustrated over this…

“Harry?”

They had already reached the wall leading to the Room of Requirement when he was berating himself – his cheeks reddened as he caught a spark of amusement in Lucius’ eyes, and quickly paced in front of the wall three times.

He was unsurprised to find all the DA members already present in the room; with him too engrossed in the discussion with both professors and dozing off halfway, he was actually five minutes late for the meeting.

As he made his way to the front of the group, he retrieved the wands he confiscated earlier this morning and tossed it carelessly towards Smith and his lackeys, which was followed by several incantations of _Stupefy_ and _Petrificus Totalus_ by other members in the room as the boy attempted to hex him upon catching his wand.

“Not too smart a move was it, Smith?” Harry nodded his thanks to several members, mainly from the advanced group – not that he had left his back defenceless, anyway – as he addressed Smith. “You are a disgrace to the DA and your House.”

He exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, Ron and Neville, glad to notice signs of approval in their eyes after he had told them about his decision of the punishment he was about to issue, and turned towards the rest of the members, at the same time acknowledging the two professors standing near the door with a curt nod.

“I apologise for the short notice, I’ll try to keep this short so that you can resume whatever activities you have planned for tonight. I have called for an emergency meeting today, to deal with a transgressor of our agreed rules.”

He sent a cool glare at Smith, “I do hope that you’re able to pay the price for your foolishness, Smith.”


	13. Punishment and Discoveries

“Do any of you remember what the first rule was for DA when I explicitly stated it during the first meeting?” Harry asked, giving the crowd a general glance over.

Terry Boot, one of the original DA members, spoke up, “There will be no House rivalry in the DA, either between members, or between members and other students.”

Harry smiled, “Exactly. I hope that all of you here have this rule imprinted on your mind by now, it would be extremely unpleasant when you are pointed out to everyone else as an oath-breaker by the magically binding contract you signed on the first day.”

Hannah Abbott frowned as she turned to look at the immobolised Smith, “But Harry, I don’t see anything on Smith…”

“He was caught in action by myself before the contract decided to act; the contract isn’t that all sensitive to purely physical fights; something I’m sure will no longer be a limitation of the contract after tonight,” Harry stated simply, a vindictive glare in his eyes emphasizing his point, “I hope that none of you get the idea to exploit any possible loopholes in the contract, I can assure you that being caught by myself, or anyone else in the DA, would guarantee an extremely harsh punishment, much more than the contract deems appropriate.

“Today in Hogsmeade, Smith was cornering a First Year Slytherin, dealing physical harm and threats of further bodily harm to the defenceless girl…”

Smith shouted hoarsely as he struggled against the spells keeping him down, “She is a dirty little traitor, a slimy snake tha-”

Harry merely flicked his wand in Smith’s general direction casually, effectively silencing the rash boy. He turned to Draco and raised his eyebrow in question, “Draco, the girl?”

Draco nodded his head, he had sought out the girl along when they came back from Hogsmeade with Pansy to gauge the harm done, and left her with Madam Pomfrey after that, “Roslyn Bastilles, First Year, she has a brother a year older in Hufflepuff, and her elder sister graduated from Hufflepuff last year.”

“Her wounds?”

It was Pansy who replied, “Mainly bruising and swelling on her face and shoulders, and a few cuts from being pushed around; Madame Pomfrey healed her broken jaw and arm, and some minor burns. But she said that this wasn’t the first time she was picked on by Smith.”

Severus narrowed his eyes, he wasn’t aware that one of his students was being bullied, why had the student not approached him and reported it? Perhaps he should have another talk with his snakes in the common room soon.

“You actually hurt a family member of our own Housemate?” Justin Finch-Fletchley demanded disbelievingly, “ _Our own Housemate?!_ ”

“Finch-Fletchley,” Harry looked at him, his tone asking Finch-Fletchley to calm down. Turning towards the silenced Smith, he started stating, “You’ve crossed boundaries you shouldn’t have, Smith. For one, you shouldn’t have picked on a girl who is so much smaller and younger than you, who had no chance of defending herself against you. For another, you shouldn’t have used petty House rivalries to justify your assault against her; the assault shouldn’t even have happened in the first place.

“What did you try to achieve by hurting her?” Harry stalked around Smith, studying him as a predator does a prey, “To intimidate her? What good would that have done? She wouldn’t be able to change her House anyway, and definitely shouldn’t just to satisfy your whim. To make yourself feel better, stronger, more superior? Now that’s impossible, pride is the last thing that is associated to such a dishonourable act, after all. To avenge her family whom she supposedly betrayed? I suppose that responsibility doesn’t even fall on you even if it was true. Do you know what I think, Smith?”

The room was absolutely silent as everyone watched Harry intently, mesmerized by the amount of power he displayed, at the same time disgusted at Smith’s behaviour. None of them would deny the deadly attractiveness of Harry when he curled his lips in contempt at Smith, with magic and power practically oozing out of his lithe frame.

Harry stopped circling him, “I think you are a coward. You don’t pick on someone your own level because you know you _would_ lose on equal grounds, so you settle on those who are weaker than you, and you continued to pick on Roslyn all this time because she was brave enough to stand up against you, because she stood firm to her beliefs – every time she defends herself, you are reminded of your very lack of courage and loyalty, so you hit her. You don’t even dare to face your own cowardice.

“In case you haven’t realized, you are not the most popular Hufflepuff here, do you know why? Because you are selfish, arrogant and dishonest, because you go against all that your House stands for. I’m quite sure you are at least a little aware that you don’t have any friends around here, except your two lackeys of course, but perhaps you need a stronger wake-up call.”

Harry looked at all the others in the room as he announced the punishment for Smith, “From today onwards, Zacharias Smith is no longer a member of the DA, he is an oath-breaker, an outcast. No one in the DA should speak to Smith in class or in the dorms, or even acknowledge his presence in the room. You can partner him in class, if need be, but don’t talk more than required to him, or offer assistance to him unless it is a life or death situation. I will not stop you from attending our meetings, but should you show up, you will be no more than a unwelcome guest, one to be ignored, and to be cast out at any inappropriate conduct.”

Smith looked outraged at the Harry’s words but Harry immediately whirled towards him with a narrowed gaze, “Don’t even try to argue that this isn’t fair, Smith. Victims of bullying and assault over a prolonged period of time would slowly start distancing themselves from all the others around them, they learn to become fearful, distrusting and ashamed. Mere social isolation that you are going to face now is nothing compared to what she might have faced if there was no intervention. The punishment will not be lifted until I am convinced that you have regretted your misdeeds and are ready to compensate for it.”

As if suddenly remembering something, Harry grinned, “And I almost forgot to tell you, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Sprout have both approved of this punishment to its alternative – isn’t this so much better than expulsion? – and Professor Sprout specifically told me to send you to her after the meeting. The other professors would probably be briefed by the Headmaster tomorrow morning, except for our two professors here.”

Smith visibly paled as he saw the dark look on Professor Snape’s face.

“Don’t worry, Smith; I’m sure Professor Dumbledore will make sure that the isolation stays an isolation, and not active bullying – we can’t all be like you, can we?” Harry continued to the rest, “Are we agreed that Smith has deserved this punishment? He shall be deprived of attention for he has yet to learn the importance of it, he shall be deprived of friendship for he attacked one affiliated to his own, and he shall be deprived of comfort from his House for he has betrayed his House values.”

The Slytherins were the first to sense a magical agreement as they murmured in acceptance, “So mote it be.”

The others followed in agreement, and not surprisingly, with the Hufflepuffs in greatest rage.

Harry bowed his head as a sign of appreciation for their agreement, “The meeting ends here. If you have an engagement otherwise, you can just leave, but I’ll stay in the room in case some of you might want extra revision and practice.”

Most of the younger years slowly left the room – many of them having daily study groups as encouraged by Harry and Hermione – but majority of the advanced level members stayed, pairing up and firing spells at each other or at the practice dummies.

Harry stupefied the bound boy and snapped his fingers, summoning a house elf to bring Smith to Professor Sprout’s office. He turned to look at his friends, cautiously weighing whether he needed to justify his decision but Hermione beat him to it.

“I don’t think that that was too harsh a punishment, Harry,” Hermione supported him, “Isolation is what they do in normal prisons – well, muggle prisons, anyway – and this is not even complete isolation; only the DA is involved. He can still attend classes and complete his work normally, you didn’t even restrict his movement or involvement in any other activities.”

“Well-reasoned, Ms. Granger,” Lucius came up from behind, “For the crimes the boy committed, he should have been expelled from Hogwarts and sent for juvenile detention, and he will probably end up with a few months in Azkaban after he reaches majority. Your punishment is much milder than that, but effective enough to force him to rethink his place and actions – I think you could lift his punishment in less than two weeks.”

Severus snorted, “Given the boy’s attention-seeking nature, he will not even last a week.”

Lucius smiled as he saw Harry frown in slight confusion, “You might have been angered purely for the fact that boy assaulted another student, but intentional physical assault, especially those that result in injuries that require medical attention, towards children below the age of sixteen is considered a heinous crime in the Wizarding World, Harry.”

Harry cocked his head to a side in question, “Why?”

“Because children are extremely precious for Wizarding families,” Draco apparently gave up on practicing and joined them, “Every child is considered a gift from Magic Herself, and our magic doesn’t reach its full potential before our sixteenth birthday, which only stabilises after our seventeenth birthday. When we are hurt physically, our innate magic focuses on healing our injuries and protecting our vitals; but our bodies require the constant circulation of magic to keep us healthy and magically sound. Self-healing, or protection, uses up majority of your magic at any one time, and it doesn’t regenerate as easily as after sixteen years of age.”

“Simply said,” Severus continued as Harry slowly comprehended their explanation, “Constantly incurring physical injuries exhausts your magical reserves to the extent that some may lose the bulk of their magic, and the Wizarding World regards this as an offence against Mother Magic, as well as the injured individual; not to mention mental instability that occurs after a deficiency of innate magic.”     

Seeing the understanding forming on Harry’s face, and the tightening of his lips following the comprehension, Lucius decided to see if their suspicions of Harry’s home life could be confirmed, “That is why child abuse is one of the most serious offences in the Wizarding World – all magical children are monitored. Any detection of an abused child immediately renders the family as inappropriate guardians, and the child would be removed from the household to be placed in another willing foster family.”

Harry’s head jerked up at once, “Then why didn’t the Dursleys-” His eyes widened in horror as he realized what he said, cutting himself off before he could divulge more information. “I need to see if the others need my help, sir; Hermione, please inform Professor Snape of our next meeting times.”

Draco, Severus and Lucius watched as Harry scurried away hastily, stopping by Pansy to correct her wand movement, before heading to the other end of the room to offer assistance to another pair of students. They exchanged a glance as their suspicion had been confirmed by Harry’s reaction – the boy has definitely suffered abuse at home.

“I suppose you know the reason for this reaction, Ms. Granger, Messrs. Weasley and Longbottom?” It was more of a statement than a question.

Hermione bit her lips, “I cannot betray Harry’s trust and share his home life with you, sir – I don’t think Harry has even told us all of it – but I can say that whatever Professor Snape had accused of him in the past is not true at all, in fact, it is the opposite.”

Ron continued, “The thing is even though Harry understands that what _they_ did was wrong, he doesn’t seem to believe it. Every time we mentioned anything close to the word ‘abuse’, he denies it, and says that it was bad but not _that_ bad…”

“Sometimes I think Harry feels ashamed about it,” Neville lowered his gaze, “I cannot understand why, but I _know_ that he feels ashamed – not of his muggle family, but ashamed of himself.”He knew, because he once felt that too, before Harry convinced him that he was better than what Gran thought of him.

The Slytherins’ frowns deepened, wondering how they should approach the topic with Harry. They know that they would need to deal with it sometime soon, such long period of abuse was bound to have negative effects on the boy – it was a miracle that he still has such high levels of magical strength. Even though Slytherin often turned out to be the House with the most number of abused students, they were often comfortable to relate to and seek comfort from their Head of House, but Harry… they should contact Narcissa to further discuss it – her charity efforts in some of the Wizarding orphanages might come in useful – and hope that she doesn’t blow up at the first mention of child abuse.

Hermione knew that they were contemplating how to resolve the issue, and knowing Slytherins – they would get what they want in the end – they probably had a higher chance of helping Harry out; especially when she could see that they cared a lot about Harry… perhaps a little _too much_ as friends or mentors, but she isn’t going to say anything unless Harry starts showing interest or when they make a move. Seriously, Harry could be pretty daft!

She handed a fake galleon to Severus, “When the next meeting is scheduled, Harry will change the time and date on his Master coin, and this fake galleon will heat up to signal a change, reflected by the serial number on the coin.”

Severus studied the coin closely, nodding his head; this way of communication was rather ingenious really, especially when they were under surveillance last year.

“Professor,” Hermione glanced around to make sure Harry was not within hearing distance before she continued, “Harry will probably pretend that nothing happened just now when he decides to come back to us, please do not force the topic onto him now.”

Severus nodded his head, “I understand, Ms. Granger. We will wait until he feels more comfortable sharing his more… intimate and unpleasant experiences,” He exchanged a glance with Lucius and his godson, “In the meantime, I would think it prudent to subtly bring this topic up to allow him to understand that this is nothing to be ashamed or afraid of.”

“I believe Narcissa has been offering donations to a Wizarding home for orphaned and abused children, perhaps we could organise a trip there during a weekend, or over the Yule break,” Lucius suggested.

Draco agreed; knowing Harry, his desire to help the children would probably override his own fear and reluctance – a bit underhanded, but as long as it could help Harry…

Watching the Slytherins heading off to the other side of the room, presumably to observe the others and join Harry in his tutoring, Ron frowned, “‘Mione, what are you thinking? Harry’s growing close to them, I know, but he doesn’t even tell us the full extent of what he suffered at the Dursleys! You think they…”

Hermione couldn’t help but giggle, _boys_! “Haven’t you seen them together, Ron? They are not friends, I’m sure that Draco at least, has no intention of being _just friends_ with Harry.”

Neville snickered, but Ron was confused.

“Seriously, Ron!” Hermione sounded exasperated. “Have you seen how Draco acts around Harry? He goes all soft and gentle, touching Harry all the time – his hands, his shoulders, the back of his neck; he monitors his meals, and helps him carry DA stuff around; re-doing Harry’s wardrobe-”

“I get it, I get it,” Ron mumbled, growing red as Hermione rambled, “Ok, he fancies Harry, I get it, no need to go on with the details.”

Hermione suddenly felt very mischievous – if this was Ron’s reaction to finding out Draco’s attracted to Harry, she was looking forward to him learning that Draco was not the only Slytherin interested in Harry. “It’s so romantic, Ron, I can’t wait to see how they would try to get Harry’s attention and Court him! Harry is so lucky!”

“Whatever you say, ‘Mione… Wait, _they?_ What do you mean _they_?” Ron spluttered as he found something wrong in Hermione’s wording.

Neville couldn’t help but laugh out loud, he knew what Hermione was trying to do. “You didn’t realize, Ron? Draco’s not the only one being extra nice and thoughtful towards Harry… I’m sure Professor Malfoy doesn’t let every student consulting him lounge around and doze off in front of his fireplace, not to mention providing cushions and blankets for him to cuddle up to,” – Harry was a little embarrassed when he told them about his meetings with the Defence Professor – “neither would Professor Snape allow anyone else to fiddle around his cauldrons and experimental potions, or poking and prodding around his private chambers while waiting for the potion to simmer.” _He’ll probably kill them before they even get close to the cauldron_.

Ron gagged this time, his face paling in disbelief, “You don’t mean- surely you’re not saying that- Oh Merlin, Harry, what have you gotten into- we have to- to…”

“I’m sure Neville is right, Ron,” Hermione was amused, “And I really don’t think we have to worry, Harry probably doesn’t realize it yet – I swear, he is worse than you – but he is relaxed around them, and he probably trust them in a different way he does us. I think they might be good for him.”

Ron pondered her point for a while. Well, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape are both old enough to be Harry’s father; but then again, considering the average lifespan of a wizard, combined with their creature blood, it’s not that much of a difference after all, there were a lot more couples with greater age differences… Hogwarts apparently had no rules prohibiting teacher-student relationship either, as long as they at least sixteen years of age – a remnant of archaic rules when children were engaged or married early, especially girls to higher-status or well-established men, at least as long as there is a third party monitoring the fairness of the professor in class and examinations. And the three of them were all Slytherins, probably knowing more curses and hexes than any of them here, so Harry would be well-protected. He guessed they actually cared for Harry genuinely – emotional display and love confession (no matter how subtle it is) was so not Slytherin but they did it anyway – and Harry _did_ really trust them… “Fine, then.”

“Ron…” Hermione had to admit she was a little apprehensive albeit her amusement, worrying that they might have to try to convince Ron not to interfere, but it seems that Harry’s recent influence had done well to Ron’s short temper.

“But we can still do the if-you-hurt-Harry-we-will-kill-you speech right?” Ron asked hopefully.

Hermione sighed, “And here I thought you matured…” but Neville cut her off, “Admit it, Hermione, you want to do that too.”

“Hmm, maybe. Just a little, to make sure they treat Harry right,” Hermione sniffed, “You don’t suppose Harry knows about Courtships, marriage or bonding patterns in the Wizarding World, do you?”

Neville shook his head, while Ron smiled brightly, “Why make it easier for them? The less Harry knows, the harder they’ll have to work for Harry’s attention, isn’t it?”

“Oh Ron…” Was it a good decision to tell him after all?

* * *

 

Harry jerked awake in the middle of the night, clutching his forehead furiously as the curse scar burned, red and raw. Muttering a spell to cool his forehead, and after checking that at least it had not started bleeding, he called for Dobby.

Dobby appeared with a soft crack, his ears bobbing in excitement at being summoned by Harry, eager to help. “What can Dobby be doing for Mister Harry Potter, sir?”

Harry smiled weakly as he picked up his glasses from the side table, and to pull on a warm sweater before reaching for his Invisible Cloak, “Dobby, I want you to go to Draco Malfoy, tell him to get his father to head to Professor Snape’s quarters, and prepare some healing potions. Can you do that?”

Dobby nodded his head furiously; he no longer feared or avoided the Malfoys after Harry re-introduced them and made it clear that they were supposed to behave civilly to each other; it helped too that the Malfoys no longer punished house elves as harshly as they did before they defected to the Light. “Dobby will be doing that, sir! Dobby be delighted to help Mister Harry Potter, sir!”

“Good. Go now, Dobby, and see if you can bring something warm but easy to eat after that to Professor Snape’s rooms,” Harry watched Dobby disapparate, checked to make sure he didn’t wake up his dorm mates, and hurried out of the room quietly.

Harry walked towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where he knew the anti-apparition wards ended and waited. After a few minutes of silence, he heard a crack of apparition and Severus appeared, staggering for a few steps before stumbling to the ground. He rushed forward to check Severus’ vitals cautiously, glad to find that the man’s pulse was weak but steady; pulling the older man up closer to him, he murmured softly, “Professor, are you able to walk?”

Severus looked at him and gave a soft grunt which Harry interpreted as a yes, carefully supporting Severus as they both stood up, making sure that the Invisibility Cloak did not slip off as they made their way back to the ancient castle.

Severus’ mind was in a mess, the loss of blood making him feel a bit light-headed, together with the lingering pain from the Cruciatus curse, he was struggling to keep a clear mind – Why was Potter here? Not even Albus or Lucius was aware of Voldemort’s sudden summoning of him, surely the boy wouldn’t have known! And why was he so calm as if he knew what had occurred?

Harry pulled him closer as the Invisibility Cloak threatened to slip off Severus’ right shoulder, and Severus’ sense of smell was overwhelmed by an intoxicating scent.

He could smell it – the reassuring scent of life-giving blood. Although Shadow Daemons do not require blood to survive like their Vampire cousins, blood was still a form of sustenance for their body, especially when they were in grave danger or stressful conditions.

The rich warmth coming from the scent wafted through his sense, he couldn’t help but lean closer to its source. It was the pleasant smell of life and blood, but there was more. _So sweet_. It smelled not only of pure sustenance – it was the scent of spring, sunlight and the forest, everything that he admired – so sweet, so irresistible.

Severus could feel his fangs elongating as he shifted closer to his companion, nuzzling him gently in the neck. His tongue flicked lightly across the surface of the skin where the jugular vein throbbed beneath, if only he could slide his fangs in… He would be _so gentle_ , and make it feel _so good_ for his sweet little mate, and allow him to learn the intimate pleasure of sensual feeding…

“Professor?”


	14. Admittance, Finally

Severus snapped out of his stupor upon hearing the uncertainty in Harry’s voice – what had he been thinking? Trying to feed from the innocent, unsuspecting boy? And what was this about _his mate_? He had no idea where that came from! There was no way he was thinking of Harry Potter as a worthy mate to pursue! He was a Potter, the son of James Potter, the bane of his existence, for Merlin’s sake!

And Potter was rash and impulsive, too bold and emotional for his own good, although well, it was one of his more endearing qualities as well, when he refused to allow Severus to stay up the entire night for stirring the potion, forcing him out of his own potions lab until he had at least a nap… wait, his line of thoughts was not supposed to go there!

“Professor?”

Harry was growing more and more worried by the moment. He had seen in his nightmarish vision how Voldemort had tortured Severus when he didn’t provide him with satisfactory results for whatever he was demanding – blood-letting curses and bone-breaking curses interspersed with the Cruciatus curse, he had been afraid that the professor might not even make it back to Hogwarts alive. Severus’ unusual behaviour and reaction now was even more unnerving, trying his best to push away the foreign but pleasant tingling he felt from the gentle nuzzling, Harry asked again, “Professor, are you alright?”

Severus nodded his head tiredly, he desperately needed a good rest right now, he was definitely not in the right mind.

Harry continued guiding their way back to Severus’ quarters, “I asked Dobby to bring Professor Malfoy and Draco down, I hope you won’t mind – I’m not sure I know exactly what to do with the injuries…”

“Stop rambling, Potter,” Severus muttered, “I just need minor healing and some sleep.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Harry kept quiet after that, taking care not to trip over anything.

As they got close to the rooms, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off, there wasn’t a chance of running into anyone here – even Filch and Mrs. Norris avoided the dungeons. The portrait guarding Severus’ quarters didn’t even ask for the password as he saw them approaching, just swinging forward at the right time to allow them to pass through without question.

“Harry, what on earth did y- Severus?” Lucius stopped mid-sentence as he took in the state Severus was in, hurriedly moving forward to help Harry bring Severus to the closest couch.

Draco started removing the healing potions from the bag his Father brought with him, pulling out several blood-replenishing potions in addition to strengthening potions. It was a silent process in which Lucius healed all of the open wounds, with Harry thrusting the healing potions into Severus’ hands, watching him gulp down the contents, as Draco retrieved nerve-soothing potions from Severus’ stores.

Finally when they were certain that Severus’ conditions were as good as he can be, Lucius asked, “What happened, Severus? Did the Dark Lord summon you now? But why was it Harry who asked for us to come down?”

Severus leaned back on the couch, too exhausted and confused to process coherent thoughts. Harry asked Dobby to keep the prepared broth warm before answering Lucius’ questions.

“You know that I sometimes have visions of what Voldemort does, right?” Lucius nodded his head, he had heard of the connection between Harry and the Dark Lord, especially in light of the event at the Ministry the year before.

Harry rubbed his scar instinctively as he explained, “I had a vision tonight – he was anxious and frustrated, he wanted something really badly, but I still don’t know what he wanted… I saw Professor Snape enter the room, and he demanded something from the professor, but he didn’t have it, then Voldemort crucioed him and – it was _so awful_ – he kept cursing Professor Snape, but casting healing spells now and then to make sure the wounds weren’t fatal – he was _toying_ with him, Merlin I-” Harry’s voice broke off. He could remember so distinctively the emotions that went through Voldemort’s mind at the time even as the pain from the connection erupted in his head – the frustration and rage from not getting what he wanted, the sadistic pleasure from torturing one of his followers, the perverted sense of arousal from blood and suffering – he felt so sick.

Draco apparently sensed his distress and moved closer to him on the couch, placing his arm over the younger teenager’s shoulder, letting him lean into his taller frame.

Lucius’ gaze softened as he saw Harry being upset over this, and walked up to the back of the couch, reaching out to place his palm on Harry’s head, massaging his scalp soothingly. “The Dark Lord is cruel and insane, Harry, do not fret yourself over the brutality of his actions, it is what we are all aware of, and prepared to deal with it.”

Severus was close to nodding off but still conscious enough to place a hand on Harry’s trembling fingers, giving him an understanding look, but not wakeful enough to offer words of comfort or reassurance.

Seeing that it was already two o’clock in the morning, Lucius shooed both Draco and Harry off back to their dormitories to get some sleep before turning back to Severus. Although Severus appeared only to be exhausted from his injuries, having known the man for so many years, Lucius could tell that his friend had more things on his mind than the two boys thought.

“What else happened?”

Severus scowled, he wanted to be left alone to rest and think over his actions and feelings carefully, but Lucius just had to meddle! “What do you mean? Nothing else happened.”

Lucius’ brows rose high, “Are you sure? You look troubled, and you did not allow Harry to sit by you just now when he was administering the potions. Do not attempt to fool me, Severus, did you not see that Harry felt hurt when you snapped at him to move away?”

Severus groaned inwardly. He didn’t intend to hurt the boy, but he was too afraid of his reactions towards Harry being close to him, his survival instincts had pushed his Daemon nature far closer to the surface than he would have liked.

“Severus?”

Severus sighed as he rubbed his temples, seems like he is not getting any sleep before Lucius is satisfied with his answer; he might as well try to get this off his mind. “I cannot stay beside that boy, Lucius.”

Lucius frowned, not understanding what Severus was about to get at.

“I nearly attacked the boy! For Merlin’s sake, I almost fed from him right there and then, when he was totally unaware of it, Lucius! I could not control myself, all I could think of was how sweet his blood smelt, and how soft and warm his skin was, as if he was my mate-” Severus’ rant stopped abruptly.

Twitching one side of his lips, Lucius tried very hard to refrain from smiling, “I see, so _that_ was the main reason you were afraid, then. Not because you nearly assaulted him, but because you find your instincts desiring Harry as your mate.

“But what is the problem, Severus? Surely you are not fretting over something like not being good enough for the Saviour of the Wizarding World?” Severus glared at him but Lucius continued anyway, “Your ages are not even as far apart as Harry and I – not that I am holding back at all – and you do not need to seek a mate who is of the same inheritance or clan; so what is the problem?”

“… You do not understand, Lucius,” Severus sighed audibly. “We- we don’t have the best of history between us... I have been belittling him ever since he came to Hogwarts, and Merlin knows he hated me for all of the five years before this summer! Are you expecting him to accept my advances at all, Lucius? You must be delusional!”

Lucius nearly laughed at Severus’ outburst, “Really, Severus, I would have thought you understood the boy much better than this. I had an even worse history with Harry before this, if you remember, I was never in his good graces ever since we met – Draco probably did not help with improving his impression of the Malfoys either. While you have not shown him kindness in the past, you have sought to protect him; and do you think he is so ignorant to actually ignore this fact? If he can forgive me for my past actions, why can he not extend you the same privilege?

“Do not forget, Severus, Harry is extremely soft-hearted and compassionate. He has treated us with respect, and if I dare say it, even affection, you should do him the same, even if only for courtesy,” Lucius explained, “The boy is starved of love and affection, surely you could offer him this and protection in your pursuit?”

Severus thought seriously for a while, before scrutinising Lucius closely, “I can see that you are interested in Potter yourself, Lucius, why are you persuading me then?”

Lucius smirked, “I have no doubt that our little Elf is more powerful than he thinks, grounding his magic will be no easy feat; I am prepared to share with his other mates, which of course, would be preferable if it was someone I know and trust – like yourself, Severus, and my son too, of course. And Harry deserves so much more attention and love than he has ever had, who am I to deny him that?”

“You have talked to Draco about this?”

Lucius shook his head, “But I doubt it will be long before Draco decides to confront me about it.”

“And if Draco does not wish to share?” Severus quirked his brow in question.

“He will have to learn, him alone will not be sufficient to support Harry in any way he needs,” Lucius’ expression hardened, “If not, may the best man win. I will not hold out against my son.” He had come to realise that whatever feelings he harboured for the young Elf was extremely strong and possessive, the delectable teen was definitely more than worthy, no matter personality, appearance or magic, and he will not give up – unless Harry desires so.

“I see,” Severus tightened his lips in contemplation, “I need time to think about how I will deal with this, Lucius, now kindly leave my quarters so that I can at least get some sleep before dealing with the dunderheads tomorrow.”

Lucius laughed heartily as he moved towards the door, “Before you start considering Courting intent gifts, you might want to think about calling him Harry, you know, I am sure he will appreciate it a lot.”

Severus scowled at Lucius’ retreating back but he knew that it was true – the look of disappointment on Potter, no, Harry’s face when he had continued calling him Potter after his confession about the Sanctuary in the Room of Requirement was still fresh in his memory. Every time he called the name “Potter”, he was constantly reminded of James Potter and his friends, even though he was well aware that Harry different from his father, he still tended to still act relatively harsher towards the boy than he had wanted to.

Perhaps, yes, perhaps he will start doing so tomorrow.

* * *

 

Harry came down to the Great Hall the next day, stifling a great yawn as he tried to decide whether he wanted to sit with the Slytherins this morning, or his fellow Gryffindors (not that he had sat with them once ever since he started having breakfast with the snakes, and he _was_ starting to get complaints from his Housemates); he hadn’t been able to get some sleep after the incident the previous night – every time he closed his eyes he was bombarded by the remnants of the emotions he felt over the link with Voldemort, and it would immediately shock him out of his sleepy state.

An arm slid across his shoulder as a familiar warmth pressed against him from the back, “You look tired, did you get any sleep after Father sent us off last night?”

“Morning, Draco,” Harry couldn’t hold back another yawn, “Couldn’t sleep, was a bit restless.”

Draco frowned, he guessed that there was some lingering effects of Harry’s vision of Voldemort, but he also knew that the boy would not divulge what he thought were petty worries. Taking Harry’s hand, he guided him towards the Slytherin table, intent on making sure he eats enough this morning.

“How many people did you think you were feeding?” Harry stared incredulously at the pile of sausages, muffins, bacon and scrambled eggs on his plate.

Daphne sniffed indignantly, adding another generous portion of eggs, “I assure you that is how much Blaise eats every morning.”

“What? You must be kidding me!” Harry cried out in disbelief.

“What? I’m offended, Daphne, I can eat far more than that!” Blaise huffed, and snorted when he saw Harry looking at him as though he was insane, “I am a growing boy, and I think Weasley eats even more than I do, Harry, spare me that look, I am perfectly normal.”

Harry grudgingly started on his plate, muttering about “impossible teenage boys” and “evil plot to fatten me” under his breath, to the amusement of the other Slytherins at the table.

As he was halfway through the mountain of food, Lucius stopped by their table and bent down towards Harry, gently caressing his forehead, “You do not look well today, Harry, perhaps you would want to take the day off?”

“I’m fine, sir,” Harry insisted, “It’s just one night of restlessness, it’s nothing.”

“If you are sure, Harry,” Lucius brushed away a few stray locks of hair on Harry’s forehead, and tucking it back behind his ears, “If you feel less than well later in the day, will you promise me to go to the hospital wing and allow Madam Pomfrey to check you up?”

Harry murmured a vague agreement, but Lucius knew it was the best he could get.

Draco’s lips tightened and frowned, looking at his Father’s hand that had yet to leave Harry’s face – even though he was used to this show of physical affection, it had never been this long, neither had it been this intimate (he was sure Harry could even feel Lucius’ breath ghosting over the top of his head!).

The other Slytherins watched in fascination as Draco narrowed his eyes at Lucius’ overly affectionate display; all of them knew of Draco’s infatuation with Harry Potter, but they were guessing that the older Malfoy was also more interested in Harry Potter than a mere prodigy, but of course, Slytherins would never say it out loud, they will just observe quietly and side with the final winner.

“Then I will see you later in class today, Harry,” Lucius gave a final flick at Harry’s cheek, and walked off towards the Head Table.

Harry let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He was used to Lucius gentle caring touches every now and then – it was really comforting and endearing – but today it seemed _different_ , it felt more personal and deep than it used to be, as if there was more to the action than mere caring and worry, but he couldn’t pinpoint what he actually felt from the gesture.

Shrugging, he pushed the thought aside for the time being, and focused on trying to clear his plate. But before he could continue his breakfast, a hand appeared from his right side, and placed a potion vial next to his plate.

“Professor Snape?” He saw the strict professor as he turned back.

The professor looked carefully at his face and spoke, “I know that you will refuse to rest now, you should take the potion at least, to keep yourself functioning for the rest of the day.”

Harry took a closer look at the vial, and realised that it was a Pepper-Up Potion. He nodded his acceptance, “Thank you, Professor.”

Severus nodded in satisfaction, stepping back and added, “If you find it necessary, I have some modified Dreamless Sleep available, Harry, you may ask for it.” He turned and left before Harry gave a response, although not before seeing the slowly growing smile on his face as he registered that the Professor had just called him by his name.

Draco was baffled, both his Father and his Godfather was acting differently today. First his Father had to come over and fawn all over Harry, touching him a tad bit too long for his comfort and looking at Harry in a way far more gentle than he used to; then his Godfather comes to offer a Pepper-Up, calling Harry by his given name – and was that a smirk at the end? – what are the both of them up to?

And then there was Harry’s reaction to worry about. He swore Harry blushed when his Father caressed his cheek with a tender gaze, and the smile aimed at his Godfather was definitely more brilliant than any other he had ever seen... A sense of urgency was suddenly emerging – was he going to lose Harry’s affection to competitors?

Harry happily tucked into his breakfast, not even complaining when Daphne and Pansy snuck a few more pieces of bacon onto his plate. Professor Snape had just called him “Harry”, something he had hoped for ever since he told them the truth of the Sanctuary and Speaker; he had hoped that the stoic professor would acknowledge that he was just Harry, not Harry Potter, the evil spawn of James Potter, or the poster boy for the Light Side, especially since their relationship was more and more amicable every day... Merlin only knows how jealous he was every time he saw the closeness Draco shared with his Godfather, something he no longer had a chance to achieve.

Blaise grinned and nudged Draco’s ribs, whispering softly so that Harry could not hear, “Seems that your Father and Professor Snape are being extra _nice_ to sweet little Harry here, Draco dear, whatever will you do?”

Draco scowled at Blaise’s obvious enjoyment of the situation, but made a mental note to meet his Father after this to clarify his intentions towards Harry. Well, he had to admit he did see it coming for a week or two, at least for his Father, but his Godfather? It must be the incident last night that created some sort of understanding or awareness, then.

Just as Harry struggled to finish the last few bits on his plate, he received a light tap on his shoulders. Twisting his head around he saw Ernie Macmillian staring at him intently, expression firmly stoic as he informed him, “We have spread word of Smith’s actions in our House, everyone has agreed that the punishment is fair and just, and all have declared intention to participate. No Hufflepuff will be seen voluntarily in Smith’s company, and his partnering in class will be on rotation basis, he will no longer be part of the Hufflepuff House for as long as he is being punished.”

Harry widened his eyes slightly, he had thought Smith wasn’t popular in his own House, but to the extent that not a single soul in the most loyal House would support him... it was unthinkable. Maybe that would push him to regret his actions sooner.

“I understand,” Harry inclined his head, “I appreciate your efforts, and he will be forgiven only when he understands his mistakes and agrees to make up for it.”

Ernie nodded his head, muttering darkly, “Don’t even know if we ever want to forgive him...”

Pansy added as Ernie left the Slytherin table, “After learning what he has done, none of the Slytherins would want to associate themselves with him, how dare he mess with one of our snakes!”

Harry smiled, it seems that the punishment would be more effective than he thought. Just as he was prepared to leave the table, a tawny owl flew towards him in the flurry of morning posts, dropping a letter onto his empty plate and staring at him balefully.

He fed a spare piece of bacon stolen from Theodore’s plate before opening the missive, frowning upon seeing the name of the sender, only to deepen further as he read along the letter.

Draco attempted to read over Harry’s shoulder, asking when he couldn’t get the full view of the missive in Harry’s hands, “Who is it from?” There wasn’t many people or things that could elicit such a response from Harry, he is deducing it is one of the ministry morons – even those obsessive fans wouldn’t be able to make Harry so angry, and he doesn’t think that there are Death Eaters who would consider sending the Boy-Who-Lived letters.

“The new Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour,” Harry sighed. “Apparently he wants me to play poster boy for the Ministry and support him in their campaign of some sort...”

Draco merely lifted a brow, “Why?”

Harry snorted and burned the letter without second thought, “He thinks that my support of the Ministry will increase the public’s confidence of them... especially after the report of the commotion in the Department of Mysteries came out in the Daily Prophet.”

“Will you?” Theodore asked nonchalantly, “Support the ministry, I mean.”

Harry gave him a disgusted look, and Pansy answered for him, “Really, Theo, do you even need to ask? The ministry under Fudge was a total joke, and Harry has been discredited by the previous Minister so many times; instead of offering a public apology to Harry on the behalf of the Ministry, he asks for public support – what kind of man is the minister if he doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to do first?”

“Definitely not a Slytherin,” Draco drawled, “It’s appalling to even imagine a snake without proper etiquette.”

“I doubt he’s a Ravenclaw,” Blaise added, “Not smart enough; but even a Hufflepuff knows better, being loyal and understanding and all. So that leaves...”

Harry glared at him when he directed a wry smile over, “I’ll be really offended if he was a Gryffindor, lions may be tactless but not stupid, you know.”

“Oops?” At least Blaise knew he stepped on the wrong foot. “What if your lack of response pushes the Ministry to discredit you further?”

“Won’t be first time either, I can’t see the harm done,” Harry shrugged, then smiled mischievously, “Then at least I’ll have legitimate reason to sue them for slander and damage of reputation, won’t I?”

“True, but...” Draco’s words trailed off as he saw another note come flying towards Harry. Harry read its content and glanced at Dumbledore, nodding his head subtly and vanishing the note, gulping down the Pepper-Up Potion as he did so.

Draco and the other Slytherins who noticed the exchange narrowed their eyes, and a quick glance at his Father and Godfather showed that they have noticed it as well, and were probably just as clueless about what it was about.

“Harry?”

Harry shook his head in response to Draco’s unasked question, “I can’t say anything about it yet, Draco; it’s something I’d rather validate first before I tell any of you about it.”

Draco frowned, not liking the sound of it.

“I’ll tell you, your Father and Professor Snape about it, soon enough,” Harry promised in a low tone, preventing the other Slytherins from overhearing it, “But until then, please trust my judgement on not divulging the information.”

“Okay,” Draco accepted grudgingly, but he knew better than to keep pushing. “Let’s go to class, then.”


	15. Courting Decisions

Draco paced restlessly in his Father’s quarters as they waited for Severus to arrive, Lucius smirked at the apparent anxiety and distress his son displayed, “Draco, do sit down, this pacing around is unfitting for a Malfoy.”

Draco stared at his Father incredulously, he had come to his Father’s quarters after Harry went off, claiming that he had other business with Professor Dumbledore – although he was getting a little suspicious at the increasing amount of time Harry is spending with the Headmaster – demanding to talk to his Father about their intentions towards Harry; but his Father only smiled serenely and told him to wait while he summoned Severus to join the discussion as well.

“Sit down, Draco,” Lucius sighed, if Draco was so agitated from the beginning, the discussion was bound to end up badly. Summoning a house elf, he asked for some hot chocolate for Draco, and Firewhiskey for himself and Severus; he was quite certain that he would either need some alcohol to burn off their frustration during the discussion, or at the end to soothe his nerves.

Severus scowled as he entered the room, he had planned to experiment with the latest potion recipe for healing aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse Harry had procured from the Goblins initially; but now as he saw the occupants of the room, he understood the reason for being called up to Lucius’s quarters without prior notice.

“You are finally here, Severus, Draco was going to wear a hole in the carpet,” Lucius commented jokingly, seeing Severus’ unappreciative glance, he decided they might as well delve directly into the topic. “You wanted to talk about Harry, Draco?”

Huffing indignantly, Draco knew that his Father was simply acting daft this time. “Father, both you and Uncle Severus has been treating Harry differently ever since his vision of Uncle Severus being tortured by the Dark Lord... I know that it is more than just professor-student relationship or fatherly feelings, what do you intend to do about it, Father?”

Lucius was impressed really, he had thought that Draco would come storming their rooms when he first realised their less than innocent interest in Harry Potter, but who knew that Draco had the patience to last two weeks before he came demanding an answer for their actions – even that Smith repented after five days and begged for Harry’s forgiveness, and is currently playing the role of protector for Roslyn, although it seems that many of the Hufflepuffs have yet to forgive him – not to mention that the tone he adopted in his question was absolutely fitting for a Malfoy Heir.

“What do you think we intend to do, Draco? I presume that you do know what our gestures meant,” Lucius was well aware that he was already showing signs of Displaying, and he should start the Courting soon. He had thought Harry looked a little apprehensive when he took off his teaching robes – not to mention that he had worn a rather tight fitting shirt that day – when Harry was in his room for their routine discussion about the DA, or when he tried to carry all the stuff that Harry brought with him, not even accepting no for an answer.

While Severus’ nature did not demand him to Display – regardless of appearance, ability to provide or strength – he did express certain signs of possessiveness towards his Intended (the two students who tried to grope Harry along the corridors still have a few more harsh detentions under Severus, no doubt).

“I do not mean to be rude, Father, Uncle Severus, but are you certain about pursuing Harry – for life?” The main concern for Draco’s distress was not jealousy or possibility of competition –although he had to admit there was a little portion of it as well – but the worry whether their pursuit was with serious intent.

Harry had already realised some sort of difference in their interaction and sought out the opinions of other Slytherins, although the other snakes didn’t divulge any knowledge of the three Slytherins’ obvious displays; he wouldn’t want Harry to be engaged in their romantic pursuits and then suffer heartache later when they decide not to follow through.

“Your concern for Harry is admirable, Draco,” Severus narrowed his eyes, “This is, however, entirely unfounded. Did you think we would treat such an issue so carelessly, Draco?”

Lucius agreed, “I have been without a mate for this many years, Draco, and knowing our nature as thoroughly as I would expect you to be, you should know that the Display would never have occurred if I was not entirely certain of the draw towards him. And it would do you well to remember that you are not the only one who cares for Harry; you should never forget, that it is ultimately Harry’s choice in the end.”

Draco lowered his eyes ashamedly, “I apologise, Father, Uncle Severus, but I had to be sure. Harry was so depressed after knowing that Professor Dumbledore had not been entirely truthful to him, I didn’t want that to happen to us, as well.”

Lucius nodded in acquiesce, while Severus frowned, “Speaking of the Headmaster, there seems to be something going on between Albus and Harry...”

“He has been disappearing off to Professor Dumbledore’s office very frequently, and every time he comes back he’s more depressed than before,” Draco nodded, “But he keeps repeating that he can’t tell yet when I ask him about it.”

“Yet?” Lucius raised a brow in question, “That means he intends to tell us later, do you reckon it is news of the Dark Lord?”

“Very likely,” Severus agreed, “Albus notified the Order earlier in the year that Harry has an essential role in the final battle, but he was reluctant to divulge further information. I remember that Molly was shouting at him about his role as Headmaster to protect his students, and Mad-Eye Moody blatantly refused to involve children any further into the Order’s functions.”

“I would have thought that Mad-Eye Moody was a more practical person, did he not preach about _constant vigilance_ all the time? Or is he attempting to ignore the Prophecy and Harry’s magical strength?” Lucius was curious, “Regardless of all other factors, it remains that Harry is the only one who has been able to track down the Dark Lord and defeat him, to some extent, for so many years.”

“Mad-Eye believes that sheer dumb luck is not going to last long,” Severus snorted, “As if the Order has more skill than the boy.”

Lucius smirked, the Order was simply running around in circles trying to track down the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord’s place of hiding – even Death Eaters were clueless, they had to arrive at the meeting place through temporary portkeys – not to mention the meagre amount of effort that can be gathered by such a small group of people (and he had this inkling that not everyone is as devoted to Dumbledore’s cause).

Even the Sanctuary was more organised and successful than the Order – their private newspapers have just gone into circulation, while the number of copies disseminated leaves much to be desired, the support for their papers was slowly and steadily rising, especially with the inclusion of simple defense and warding spells, a Death Eater Activity Watch, detailing attacks on wizarding and muggle villages and debunking over-exaggerations of their attacks; as well as articles to demystify pureblood traditions and rumours of magical creatures and beings. According to the Goblins, the production of warding trinkets has been fairly steady and was awaiting further directions from Speaker. And the potions recipes have undergone rigorous experimenting by Severus (and Harry), several of which have been published in potions journals and were preparing for large-scale production, such as the improved Wolfsbane Potion, and several sensory-enhancing battle potions.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised that Harry was one formidable leader, a charismatic leader that attracts loyal followers without consciously doing so, and one that is extremely pragmatic and efficient.

Draco however, was more interested in current events. “As dense as Harry might be, when are we going to express our Courting Intents? He won’t know unless it is straightforward and blunt enough for him so that he doesn’t deny the reality of it.”

The other two Slytherins frowned, they had no doubt Harry was completely oblivious and naive about Courting and Mating rituals – he probably never thought it would apply to him –so they had to make sure their Intents were clear, and then there was the matter of timing...

“Perhaps after he removes our Dark Mark?” Lucius suggested, “We would have sufficient time to prepare our first Courting gifts, and hopefully would not distract or cause Harry distress when he has his mind on these issues.”

Severus has already completed the requested potion a few days ago, and after some discussion together with the others, they have agreed that it was probably best to conduct the ritual on the last day of school before the Yule holidays, so that they would have ample time for rest and recovery if need be. Although Harry have not enlightened them on the intricacies of the ritual, but he did mention that witnesses would be needed; he had asked Narcissa and Longbottom to serve as witness together with Weasley and Granger, while Draco would be there on alert if anything goes wrong.

Both Severus and Draco contemplated Lucius’ suggestion and agreed that it would possibly be the best timing, and the conversation topic eventually turned towards more relaxing issues such as school lessons and Yule invitations.

Just as Draco was inquiring about certain aspects of their previous lessons on DADA, the man in the portrait guarding Lucius’ quarters appeared in the portrait above the fireplace.

“I apologise for interrupting you, sirs, but I believe I should alert you, the young lad who visits often seems to be in extreme distress, I will just be letting him in now.” And without waiting for their response, he disappeared out of the frame, accompanied by the sound of the portrait swinging forward, and soft footsteps padding into the room.

Lucius was baffled, the portrait had never alerted him before, not even when the Headmaster was in a hurry to see him, but his confusion quickly dissipated when he saw his visitor – “Harry? Are you fine?”

Harry lifted his head and stared blankly at Lucius, as if he couldn’t understand his question; those beautiful emerald orbs reflecting a dull light, with signs of confusion and obvious pain.

Severus instructed Draco to fire-call Narcissa as he turned towards the cabinet where Lucius kept all his potions, picking out a calming draught – the boy was in shock, and he didn’t want it to escalate into a panic attack after that.

Lucius conjured soft cushions and feathery blankets on the rug in front of the fireplace, gently guiding Harry by his arm towards the warmer portion of the room, hoping that the familiar setting might help the young Elf feel better.

It turned out that Narcissa wasn’t in the manor – they vaguely remember she said something about gathering ritual materials for the upcoming Yule in France or so; Lucius tucked the blanket warmly around the boy, holding him in a loose but firm embrace, slender fingers gently carding through his hair in soothing motions as he pulled Harry’s back to his chest, while Draco and Severus abandoned their seats on the sofa, opting to sit closer to Harry without being intrusive.

“Harry?” Lucius couldn’t help but coo softly at him, “Are you feeling alright- no, I am sure you are not. Harry? Will you say something? Please, Harry...”

Draco asked the house elves for a warm cocoa, and Severus slipped the calming draught into the hot drink, passing it to Lucius. Harry didn’t even try to hold the mug himself, and Lucius could only press the edge of the mug to Harry’s lips, gently coaxing him to drink it.

As Harry drank the hot cocoa, the warm drink (and definitely, the calming draught) slowly brought him back to his senses, and his emotionless demeanour peeled off to reveal a distraught, painful and disappointed expression instead.

Lucius stroked his hair gently, “Harry? Are you feeling better now? Will you tell us what is wrong, love?”

Harry didn’t even notice the endearment that Lucius added at the end of his sentence, which made all them worry even more – Harry was usually quite alert, even with the calming draught, he seemed to remain in a troubled trance-like state.

“Harry?” Draco and Severus both called his name worriedly.

“You remember you kept asking me what was going on with me meeting Professor Dumbledore all the time, Draco?” Harry’s sudden voice startled all of them, but he didn’t seem to be intent on waiting for an answer, “Professor Dumbledore has been showing me memories... memories of Voldemort when he was younger – the orphanage, the first time the Chamber of Secrets was open, and later when he came back to Hogwarts to seek a teaching position.”

They didn’t interrupt him even though they had questions – they knew that Harry had to get it out, and questions could be saved for later.

“He was so... so different, the other children didn’t like him, and bullied him because they _knew_ he was different; but he fought back, not like me, I would only cower in fear – but he resisted them, he bullied them back, he even killed two of the children...” Harry’s narration was monotonous but they could still feel the slight tremble in his voice, but knew that this was probably not the essential part in the story he was going to tell.

“He was so angry when he was denied the teaching position for DADA after he graduated... By then he had been dabbling in the Dark Arts, and he was so afraid of being mortal, being weak, being prone to death, he created a new name for himself, _Voldemort – to flee death,_ and he even created Horcruxes...

“I’ve never known things such as Horcruxes existed – killing someone and splitting the soul into fragments to anchor the soul to the Earth... it was insane. But he did. He killed and split his own soul... not once, not twice, not three times- he did it six times!”

“Harry...” Draco started, he still wasn’t quite sure what a Horcrux was, but from Harry’s slight hitch in breath, he could tell that it was far from pleasant. Severus and Lucius frowned, knowing that Harry was still far from being finished, they knew what kind of vile objects Horcruxes were yet they still couldn’t understand why Albus decided to share these details with Harry but not the Order – emotionally and logically, they were better able to deal with such information.

“Professor Dumbledore found out the location of his Horcruxes; he had already destroyed the Gaunt ring, but it left his hand wounded permanently. He asked me if I would accompany him to the next location – How could I say no? The Sanctuary is so clueless; I needed to know what kind of vile things we have to deal with, and I couldn’t leave Professor Dumbledore to deal with the unknown defences that Voldemort was sure to have in place... We went into that cave – it was so dark, so cold... There was this basin of water – a bright green potion – that couldn’t be drained or vanished, and Professor Dumbledore said that it probably had to be drunk...”

At this point, Lucius and Severus’ brows furrowed tightly as Draco petted Harry’s hand softly and lovingly, Albus had better not have asked Harry to drink it!

“I didn’t think it was a good idea, but it seemed like the only choice. I was prepared to drink it, really, but Professor Dumbledore told me to make sure _he_ continued drinking it, no matter the reaction. He drank the first two goblets, then he started muttering... I told him to keep drinking and he did, and then he asked me if he _had_ to continue drinking, and I still told him to! Oh Merlin, he pleaded, and he begged, to stop and not drink anymore, but I told him to, I fed him, I forced him to continue drinking! I knew there was something wrong – I knew he was breaking! But I...”

Harry started trembling wildly, and it took great effort for Lucius to hold him close and keep him steady, as Draco murmured sweet nothings to soothe him and Severus rubbed his palms and forehead in a calming manner.

Harry continued his tale, still shivering but not as violently as before, “Finally, it seemed like ages, but the potion was finished, and Professor Dumbledore was already so- so weak and broken. I took the locket from the basin-” Harry gave a dry laugh, “But someone had already been there before us, and replaced the real Horcrux with a fake locket! All that effort for naught!”

The Slytherins winced at the self-hatred in Harry’s tone of voice, but he went on, “Professor Dumbledore was so withdrawn then, he kept asking for water but all the water I conjured disappeared as soon as it touched his lips, he wanted the water so desperately I had to get the water somewhere – anywhere! Then I spotted and remembered the lake we passed through.”

His body gave an involuntary shudder at this, “The water looked alright and it didn’t disappear when Professor Dumbledore tried to drink it, I was so relieved. But _they_ appeared.” Another shudder.

“What appeared, Harry?” Lucius asked softly, not wanting to scare the boy. “What?”

“Inferi. So many of them. From the lake. I didn’t know what to do – they didn’t back off when I sent spells at them. I panicked, and Professor Dumbledore still wasn’t well enough to do anything. I was so scared – for myself and Professor Dumbledore. Finally I remembered to conjure a Fire Shield and we got to the boat, but they grabbed the boat from the side, from underneath, from everywhere...” Harry curled up tightly in a defensive posture.

“I nearly thought we would die there, but we made it out, somehow; and we got back to Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore- he was so out of it, he kept muttering nonsense words, he was so weak he couldn’t even walk on his own, and he- he behaved almost like _a child,_ begging for forgiveness and that he didn’t mean to do it... I gave him some of our strengthening potions and brought him back to his office, sending him into a spell-induced sleep. I felt so awful – if only I didn’t force him to finish drinking that vile potion, if only I had drank the potion instead! I made him so vulnerable, I nearly got him – us – killed! I-”

Harry broke down crying, tears streaming down his face as he muttered incoherent apologies with apparent self-blame in between his sobs, promising and vowing to do better next time and not be a failure, a “worthless freak”. The Slytherins frowned as they heard that, no idea where that came from, but continued comforting him and calming him down even though they knew that he wasn’t hearing them.

Severus pressed a vial of his special brew of Dreamless Sleep to Harry’s lips, which the boy gulped down obediently, and fell unconscious shortly after. Lucius carried him to the spare bedroom in his quarters, unwilling to let him spend the night in Gryffindor Tower after a clearly traumatising experience. He tucked him in with extra tenderness, and casted a few monitoring spells over the sleeping figure and the bed, before re-joining Severus and Draco in the living room.

“What was Albus thinking?” Severus snarled, “Bringing Harry along to a potentially dangerous situation with no defences whatsoever? And forcing Harry to make sure he finished whatever that vile potion was, knowing very well that the boy would beat himself over any negative outcomes to it?”

“I can’t believe that the Headmaster actually did this!” Draco raved, “He actually manipulated Harry into the mission, and then just hoped that everything would turn out well?! This is unbelievable!”

Lucius frowned gravely as he agreed with their sentiments, “Boy-Who-Lived or not, he is too young to face all this… Does Dumbledore even remember that he is only sixteen-years-old? Harry could very well have died today, without anyone else to help and assist them. And apparently, the Headmaster cannot be trusted with Harry’s safety, no matter what he deludes himself with. We would have to take things into our own hands, it seems.”

Draco looked at his Father and slowly nodded. Severus, on the other hand, raised his brow at Lucius’ suggestion – “Are you implying that we should move forward our plans?”

According to the old traditions, those who are being Courted, no matter wizard or magical creature/being, are under the complete protection of their suitors, especially when said suitors are Lords or Heirs to magically powerful families, say for example, the Malfoys and the Princes.

“Of course the Headmaster should be notified of our intentions before we send out the Courting Intent, and the rest of the school can be made known to the fact that Harry is being Courted without actual knowledge of whom until we can get the Marks removed,” Lucius stated.

“Even if they didn’t know who is Courting Harry, most of them would hesitate before trying to harm him,” Draco agreed, seeing the merit in this plan; Severus too nodded his assent, “ _And_ some would hesitate before manipulating him into plans for _the greater good_ and sending him to his death. Indeed, we should send the intent in the next few days, Harry will need some support that his friends might not be able to provide.”

They were silent for a while before Draco asked, “Do you think Harry have told his friends about this already? Or did he come straight to us?” He would deny to his last day that his heart fluttered at the thought that Harry would have come to them first, before he even sought out the other two thirds of the Golden Trio and Longbottom.

Lucius shook his head, “Considering the way he looked when he came in, I doubt he would have already talked to his friends. They would never have let him leave the dormitory looking like this – not when we have not been able to identify the potential Death Eaters in school.”

Severus frowned, “If he had not told them he was going elsewhere, what do you think they would do when he does not return to the Gryffindor Tower after curfew?”

Lucius and Draco exchanged a glance and both paled slightly, knowing the extremely protective nature of those few lions, they would be storming here in no time – true to their prediction, they heard chaotic knocking on the portrait entrance in the midst of the portrait muttering loudly about ill-mannered children and lack of basic courtesy to portraits.

Sighing, Lucius made way to the door, throwing dirty looks at his friend and son for pushing the responsibility of answering the door to him, “It is rather late to be wandering in the corridors, is it not, Messrs. Weasley and Longbottom?”

“Harry is missing!” Weasley blurted out hurriedly, “He was supposed to come back to the dormitories before eight o’clock after his meeting with Professor Dumbledore, but he isn’t back yet! We tried the Headmaster’s office but there was no response! What if some Death Eater got to him-”

“Calm down, Mr. Weasley,” Lucius drawled, “Harry is fine.”

“-and we couldn’t find him in time-” Weasley stopped abruptly as Longbottom shoved him hard in the shoulder, “What? Harry is fine? Did you see him... sir?”

Lucius rubbed his forehead tiredly, Ronald Weasley could be quite tiring to deal with at times. “Indeed, Mr. Weasley. Harry came here not long ago.”

Probably sensing something different in Lucius’ tone, Longbottom asked cautiously, “Is he still here, Professor Malfoy?”

Lucius pondered how best to convey the situation to them, finally deciding to give them a rough idea, “Harry’s meeting with the Headmaster did not go very well today and he was quite... upset over it. I have allowed him to rest in the guest room for the night; he will not be returning to the dormitory tonight.”

Longbottom’s eyes widened fractionally, exchanging some sort of look between Ron, silently communicating in a way that only Harry, Weasley, Longbottom and Granger would understand, before finally turning back to Lucius, “Can you tell him that we asked about him tonight, and would like to have breakfast together with him tomorrow, if he is well enough to attend lessons?”

“Of course,” Lucius agreed easily, although he could sense there was some unspoken code in the part about breakfast, but he doubted that they would do something untoward to Harry, “Good night, Weasley, Longbottom, take care not to get caught on your way back, we would not hope to oversee your detention for wandering about after curfew.”

Watching their retreating backs down the corridor, Lucius turned and closed the door, as the three of them planned how they should ensure that Harry leaves the unhealthy self-blame behind the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first posted this on FFnet, someone told me that Harry should not be meekly following Dumbledore's orders since he already knows that Dumbledore isn't infalliable, and that he is currently leading a Third Side to the war. But do keep in mind that Harry is still young and knows little about Voldemort's past and attacks (as opposed to Dumbledore), so Harry still sees him as a valuable source of information, and a mentor. He relies on the Headmaster to gain crucial information for defeating Voldemort, and because Dumbledore promised him full disclosure (even though he isn't doing that). Even when he eventually chooses not to listen to Dumbledore when the Sanctuary grows stronger, he will still look upon the Headmaster as a father figure (things like this is hard to change). And if anyone wonders why Harry didn't tell anyone else what he was up to with the Headmaster before, it's because Dumbledore said not to and he can't risk losing his word and have Dumbledore decide to leave him out of the circle - he needs to make sure that Horcruxes are real before he gets the Sanctuary involved in this.


	16. Courting Intents

Harry was found sitting at the Gryffindor Table for the next two mornings, to which the Slytherins graciously expressed their understanding after Neville described the burning need to make sure that he was okay after a less than pleasant experience – although the first morning was rifled with tension, arguments exchanged and flung across the tables (“Why can’t Harry sit with us this morning?” “He is a Gryffindor!” “So? He is an honourary snake!” “You can’t have him every morning, we also need our mornings with Harry!” “He spends the entire day with you lions, how’s breakfast with us affecting you?”), which stopped only when Draco and Neville threw dirty looks at their arguing housemates.

The three Slytherins were amused at Harry’s reaction as he heard that the lions wanted to have breakfast with him when he was once again conscious and aware, he visibly paled at the idea and hung his head low, moaning and muttering about over-protective Housemates and such.

When Draco suggested that Harry take the day off, he shook his head, knowing very well that the delay would only make the actual interrogation during breakfast even worse.

He flushed as he thought about the morning before again. He had panicked when he woke up in an unfamiliar environment, and almost freaked out when he found that none of his friends or companions were in the room – that was before Lucius came into the room to check on him, which proceeded to completely freak him out when he realised he had been stripped down to his boxers but he had no memory of doing so before he fell asleep.

After washing up and changing into the clothes that Dobby had enthusiastically offered to collect from his trunk, he was surprised to find Lucius, Severus, Draco and Narcissa – even with his vague recollection of the previous night’s events he knew that she wasn’t there, then when did she arrive? – all waiting for him in the sitting room. After spending the first half an hour listening to them reaffirming that whatever happened in the cave was not his fault and he should not (and better not) be blaming himself; the next ten minutes went by with them ranting about the Headmaster’s irresponsibility, and finally they allowed him to go after another twenty minutes of cooing and smothering under Narcissa’s ministrations.

Then there was the outbreak of the argument between Slytherin and Gryffindor when he went to sit with his Housemates for breakfast, which he would freely admit that he had totally no control over – somehow nobody wanted to listen to his opinion in the heat of the argument. The fact that the lions were surrounding him in a protective circle didn’t improve the situation either.

Finally when things calmed down, he was squished between Ron and Neville while Hermione took the seat right opposite of him, casting an anti-eavesdropping charm and erecting a privacy ward, before settling down with a stern expression that sought to suck his soul out of him.

“What happened with Professor Dumbledore last night, Harry. You didn’t even come back to the dorms, did you know how worried we were? Even if you had wanted to go to Professor Malfoy, you should have at least sent Dobby or your Patronus to tell us! We had half the idea to blast the Headmaster’s office open last night... _Really_ , Harry, what happened?” Hermione frowned, her words blurting out so rapidly that it would have become a blur if not for Harry’s six years of friendship with her.

Harry contemplated seriously how much information should he divulge to his friends – he had given far more information than he had wanted to yesterday with the Slytherins, and he knew that he probably would be placed under extra attention from them these few days – but Neville immediately eliminated that idea from him, “We will never betray your trust or think lowly of you no matter what happened, Harry. We are friends and we would have pledged our loyalty to you when we joined the Sanctuary if we could.”

Harry looked properly chastened for wanting to hide the truth from them, bowing his head sheepishly, he started giving them a recount of the incident in the cave, which was more detailed but less emotionally charged than the night before – maybe it was the talk with the Slytherins in the morning, or maybe it was because he had already vented his frustration and worries last night; anyway he felt a lot more at peace with all that had occurred before.

He could see the frown on his friends’ face growing more and more pronounced, and when he finally finished the account (with only ten minutes to spare before the day’s classes commenced) Ron couldn’t help but rant, “Bloody hell! So there was no backup whatsoever, not even giving you an idea of what to expect when Dumbledore clearly knew what was going on?!”

Hermione shushed him, “ _Professor_ Dumbledore, Ron! Even if I feel like storming his office and throttling him for bringing Harry alone to a place where he could have got them killed, he’s still the Headmaster.”

“Trust you to get all the emphasis wrong, Hermione,” Neville muttered good-naturedly, still trying to come to terms with the fact that the Headmaster had knowingly led them both into a dangerous, and potentially life-threatening situation.

After some more detailed questioning of his experience in the cave and promises from them to try to find out what was the potion in there, and who R.A.B. referred to, they headed off for classes; but Harry did notice an amused smirk on his friends’ faces when he apologised for not telling them first, but seeking out the Slytherins before them – he was a bit confused why he had decided to go to Lucius Malfoy (it wasn’t even a conscious decision) instead of talking to his friends, but the look on Hermione’s face suggested she had a theory about it, but _that_ was a look he didn’t know whether he had the courage to go and ask about it.

Everything else went rather smoothly that day, although Professor Dumbledore didn’t show up for any of the meals that day – Harry was positive that he accidentally over-powered the sleeping spell, of course the fact that the Headmaster was already severely weakened didn’t help the situation either – but Harry believed that he would recover in two or three days’ time, and that the house elves wouldn’t leave him vulnerable there. Well, at least with the portrait of Phineas Black would make sure that Dumbledore lived – he had to threaten the man of removing his portrait in Grimmauld Place to make him do it.

The second morning at the Gryffindor Table however, was an enlightening and unusual morning for Harry – of course, the lions’ insistence at Harry sitting at their table again created another argument between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables (“Didn’t you get your dose of Harry yesterday?!” “You snakes get it every day before this, why can’t we have it for a change?” “Then why don’t Harry spend the rest of the day with us?” “Are you kidding, of course Harry’s going to have lessons together with us Gryffindors!”) but they were effectively silenced before it could break out into a hexing war as Lucius cleared his throat deliberately when he walked past the two tables, his voice making it clear that punishment for creating a ruckus would be less than desirable, and probably extremely tiring or painful.

At that point, he gave Harry an undecipherable look, leaving Harry even more confused after looking at Draco at the Slytherin table, and Severus who was already seated at the High Table.

Harry felt sorely confused – it would seem that the three Slytherins were anticipating something, which at the same time made them nervous (well, arguably it wasn’t that obvious, but still Harry could tell) – and that lasted until the morning post came by.

Three owls carrying sealed letters with bouquets and small packages dangling from their feet flew towards Harry and elicited a few gasps as some of the students recognised what it represented. Harry was baffled when they landed in front of him, stretching out their legs and waiting for him to untie their missives, letters he could understand, it was the flowers that he couldn’t really understand...

“Oh,” Hermione went starry-eyed at the bouquets, “How wonderful, Harry, these are Courting Intents for you!”

Harry took the sealed parchments and flowers, feeding the owls bits of bacon from his plate, he responded distractedly, “What?”

“Courting Intents, Harry,” Neville explained quietly, “Traditional Wizarding practices require a suitor interested in your hand to send out a letter of Intent to ask for permission to Court you, and to detail their sincerity in the Courtship, explaining their desire and interest in you, as well as why you should accept their Courtships. Usually the letter is accompanied by a collection of four different flowers, representing their Promises for this Courtship, and a First Gift to attain your favour. ”

Ron took a closer look at the flowers and reeled back in surprise, “Bloody hell, these are Soul-Imbued Bouquets, Harry!”

Harry could only respond with an utterly blank expression – Courtships, Bouquets, First Gifts? What in Merlin’s name was going on? 

“Soul-Imbued Bouquets?” Hermione gushed, “Then they must really be serious about this! Oh Harry, this means that the flowers they sent have a small part of their magic and soul intent, so that it remains in full bloom as long as their promises stay true! How romantic!”

Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione’s antics, but nodded in agreement, “If they fail to uphold their promises to you at any point in time, then the flowers will wilt and die, and they themselves would also suffer a magical backlash for going back on their original intents... You don’t usually see this kind of bouquets anymore, even Dad didn’t dare to send Mum a bouquet like this...”

“Oh,” was what Harry managed to get out after digesting that little bit of information, and turned to examine the respective flowers sent to him, of which Neville offered to help in interpreting the promises and desires as the statement in the flowers gifted to him.

He took the first bouquet up and took a glance at the scroll of parchment, the seal was unfamiliar but the subtle scent accompanying the letter was somehow quite familiar... He sent a questioning glance at the High Table, but only received a genuine smile from Lucius.

Neville leaned over to get a better look at the flowers and started reeling off the meanings of each individual flower as he knew it, “Well, the Hibiscus and Magnolia probably represents what he sees from you, a sweet, delicate beauty; and his promise is for fidelity and affection to you – the Ivy – and to be your strength and courage should you require it – the thyme, of course.”

Harry blushed furiously but couldn’t help feeling a gentle warmth curling within his chest at the virtues promised. He chanced another glance at the High Table and thought he saw a smug smirk from the blonde man, but his attention was taken up by the other bouquet, which the attaching letter that surprisingly smelt like the kind of perfumed parchment _Draco_ liked to use for formal occasions...

Neville grinned after looking at the second bouquet, if the previous one was heart-warming and encouraging, this one was purely affection and romance, “White Carnations for innocence and sweetness, Camelia for perfection and admiration, Harry you do have a very serious admirer; and I’m guessing that he wants to be your inspiration – the Angelica flowers – and courage – the Borage, but I guess it could also be part of your virtues that he appreciates and hope to protect, I don’t know, you probably have to read his letter to fully understand it.”

Harry’s blush extended further and refused to meet the eyes of amused friends as he picked up the last bouquet and letter, which had a faint smell of potions fumes and spices... _How curious_ , he thought dryly.

Neville gushed at the last bouquet, the promises was so tender and _sweet_ (although he would probably take that comment back after knowing who precisely had sent it) “Lily-of-the-Valley represents sweetness, but I suppose it is also a tribute to your mother, and Fennel – it’s to say that you are worthy of all praise, isn’t that _so_ nice? – and he promises to always be faithful and true to you – the Violets – and the Marigold means that he hopes to be the comfort for your heart – well, that is quite an unusual one, people normally avoid the more emotional aspects in the original Courting Intent and the First Gifts.”

Hermione couldn’t stop gushing about how romantic it was and how much Harry deserved the complete devotion and attention of potential suitors, and much to Harry’s horror, Ron agreed.

“Come on, Harry, you need someone to take the burden of the Wizarding World off you and to take care of you, I know you keep saying that you’re not interested in dating and stuff yet, but the Courting would ensure that they are truthful in their intents, and you have the control over how fast it is going to progress, they won’t do anything that is against your wishes,” But Harry swore that he heard a muttered “we’ll kill them if they do” under his breath.

Hermione leaned close and whispered curiously, “Do you already have an idea who sent you the Intents, Harry?” From the fact that Harry had not been anxious in opening the letters, nor the packages, but blushed so furiously instead of embarrassment or rage... she guessed that Harry probably had a good idea who the senders were.

Harry sent a nervous glance to the High Table and the Slytherin Table, almost fast enough to escape Hermione’s notice – of course, _almost_ being the imperative word – and nodded his head imperceptibly, carefully keeping the letters and packages into his satchel, intending to read it later when he was alone, shrinking the bouquets and intertwining the flowers onto a bracelet he transfigured out of some spare parchment, slipping it over his wrist while casting some gentle cushioning charms to prevent the flowers being squished as he went about his day.

Although all of them were curious, none of them questioned Harry about the identity of his admirers, nor did they ask him to read and share the contents of his letter – Courting Intents and letters were extremely private and only the Courted could decide whether they wanted their suitors to be known or to keep the entire issue personal until a successful engagement (although such situations were usually when the relationship was less than desirable). Of course, Hermione’s perceptiveness had led her to get a fairly accurate confirmation of the identity of the senders, Harry really needed to work on keeping his expressions subdued or indifferent.

The three Slytherins, on the other hand, were all pleased with Harry’s response towards their Courting Intents – they had worried that he might not be entirely taken with the idea of being Courted, especially when the situation wasn’t particularly accommodating, but Harry’s reaction showed no sign of unwillingness or embarrassment, but only of pleasant surprise and perhaps, pure shyness.

* * *

 

Harry almost bolted out of the Charms classroom as the day ended, rushing back to his dorm room, ignoring the snickers of his friends behind him as they teased him for his anxiousness; all of them could easily guess that he was off to read his letters in quiet solitude.

He drew the curtains around his bed and casted a silencing spell (in case he squawked or anything equally indignant during the reading) and a strong privacy charm, together with an alarm spell to alert him of his dorm mates entering the room. He made himself comfortable in his bed, arranging his pillows to surround his slender frame, and finally opened the sealed scrolls.

> _Harry love,_
> 
> _Forgive me if the endearment was beyond conventional boundaries, love, I cannot help but think of you in this manner, perhaps you would be so kind to grant this enraptured soul such a liberty? You seem to have been oblivious to the intriguing being that you are, and sadly, have not realised, or maybe were too shy to respond to my Display, little one, although I do apologise for the abrupt removal of teaching robes in my room – I could see that you were a little taken aback by that particular Display. However, instincts demand I prove to you that I am fully capable of providing for and protecting you, love, please do indulge me._
> 
> _But I digress. I presume that your friends would probably have enlightened you on the topic of Wizarding Courting, so I shall not bore you with these details. What is essential is that you understand that Courting Rituals for a magical being such as a Veela, and yourself as an Elf, is not to be taken lightly, bonding and mating for us is for life, eternal; thus the Soul-Imbued Bouquet – I am prepared to uphold my promise to you with my life and magic, should I stray from my original Intent, may Mother Magic punish me as Her Grace sees fit._
> 
> _Our brief encounter during your Second Year must have left you a poor impression of myself – one that I regret almost as much as subjecting myself into the services for the Dark Lord – yet you have forgiven me for my ill-planned actions and decisions; for that I cannot express how immensely fortunate and blessed I am to be in your enjoyable company. I would never have thought that the little boy whose height was barely to my chest would have grown into such a fine man. Of course, even then, your defiance and challenge back then shined so fervently through those stunning eyes; and when you confessed to us the truth of the Sanctuary and your Elven heritage, none of us can deny the powerful attraction from your magical strength, your ethereal beauty, and the sheer brilliance of your gentle yet resilient personality. If you would allow the Courting to proceed, I am certain that you might have that delectable shade of rosiness permanently on your cheeks, which might I add, make you all the more desirable, and my instincts harder to suppress, love._
> 
> _The Wizarding World has placed a burden far too heavy for those slender shoulders of yours, love, and I offer you my knowledge and powers in the Dark Arts and its Defences Against to aid you in your fated battle against the Dark, and to shield you from dangers on the battlefield. Your bravery and desire to bring peace and integration to the larger Wizarding World astounds me, and no matter how much I desire to wrap you up in the softest silken sheets and hide you from the world, I understand your ambition and aspiration; for this, I offer my knowledge and practice in Wizarding Law and Traditions, as well as information of Magical Creatures and Beings, to extend your plans. I offer a shoulder for support, a hand for encouragement, an embrace for reassurance, and kisses for affection; I offer the entirety of myself to be your strength and courage, whenever and wherever you need me to be. To you, I promise to be faithful, to shower you with affection you have been deprived of for so long, to embrace you in love, and to provide you with a family to call your own._
> 
> _Please forgive me for my request that you keep our identity – Severus, Draco and myself – to yourself for the time being, love, regardless of the overwhelming desire to stake the claim over you, current predicaments forbids it. I look forward to the day I am released of the Dark Mark, when I can hold you in my arms and declare my Intents and Promises to the whole world, to show them my love and affection for you, and to answer any challenges against my Courting of you. It is only even more meaningful that it is you, my love, who will release me from the forceful bond borne from a severe mistake in the past, to return me the freedom of choice of whom I willingly bond myself to, to which I would not hesitate to bond myself to you if you would agree then._
> 
> _I thus seek your acceptance of my Courting, and allow me the chance to bring you love and affection, pleasure and comfort, and anything that you may desire. Je t’aime, my little lion, and may you grant this half-soul his entirety; other men it is said to have seen angels, but I have seen you and you are enough, mon amour._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Lucius Abraxas Malfoy._

By the time Harry had reached the end of the letter, his cheeks were already a prominent shade of red – Lucius was such a sweet-talker!He was sure that Lucius could even charm an inanimate statue if he wanted to. Harry had to admit that Lucius’ declarations had touched the depths of his hearts; he had been seen as a hero for the Wizarding World for so long that he had learned not to rely on others for help – there were times when he sorely wanted someone to depend on, but after the his encounters with Voldemort in Hogwarts, and the lack of support from the staff, even Dumbledore, he knew that it was better to lock this desire deep down in his heart, just as he did when he realised that wishing for his parents to come and bring him away from the Dursleys was entirely futile.

Of course, his friends were always willing to help, he would never forget how much it meant to him when Ron and the twins rescued him from the Dursleys back in the Second Year, nor would he forget the support they had given him in the Triwizard Tournament and during their little rebellion against Umbridge; but it didn’t feel right to burden them with things that he didn’t want to deal with either.

But now, Lucius had offered him more than others could and had ever done. It wasn’t the promise of Lucius’ knowledge and power that intrigued him, but rather the thought of Lucius offering himself as a source of encouragement and support, knowing that he will not abandon Harry in times of need, and that he has willingly given promises of protection and affection not because of the desire to be affiliated with the Chosen One, or for personal gains, but simply because he wanted to.

Perhaps he didn’t feel as strongly towards Lucius as Lucius seemed to profess to him in the letter – really, that man should be arrested for his natural ability to seduce people with words – but he was certain that he quite liked the man, and that he felt a sense of security and contentment when he was in Lucius’ presence, and perhaps, _perhaps_ that might be the beginnings of love.

He pried open the package Lucius sent alongside the letter carefully, and his heart melted upon the sight of the gift – it was a little carved pendant with a baby gryphon playing with its tail, and a serpent entwined around its body – and when Harry held it closer, he could feel a faint pulse coming from the pendant. He took a moment before he realised that the rhythmic beat was a heartbeat, and he would bet his Firebolt that it was Lucius’ heartbeat, in fact.

A smaller parchment fluttered out of the parcel wrappings, and Harry picked it up to read Lucius’ writing on it:

> _Love, I hope to honour your heritage, and hopefully, it would come to symbolise the intimacy we can share in the future. You hold my heart in your hands, and I could hope for nothing else._

Harry knew that to deny an attraction towards Lucius was a lost battle when his heart fluttered and swooned at the sweet message, he wore the chain over his neck and held the pendant against his heart for a moment, feeling Lucius’ heartbeat against his own, and raised the pendant to his lips, laying a soft kiss onto the pendant and blushing madly.

It took a while before he felt calm enough to pick up the other letter (which he presumed was from Draco) and to start reading it.

> _My lovely Lion (or should I call you My Kitten, for you are ever so adorable),_
> 
> _I have a feeling that you are probably feeling overwhelmed by what is happening right now, and I do hope that it is not a frown that mars your face, but the delicious blush that you are so fond of having when Father touches you, or when Uncle Severus speaks your name, or even when you feel me sitting closer to you, and touching more than necessary at times – not that I am at all apologetic for that, Kitten. I am reluctant to admit that you were painfully oblivious to any of our advances even though you seem to have felt something a little different, but now that we are openly Courting – as much as we can before our plans for the Yule break – you, I am hopeful that you might find our Displays a little more obvious that you had before this. You have no idea, My Lion, no idea how hard it is to stop myself from a full Display in front of you, although I must warn you, some of our declarations during the Display, especially when our instincts are wild, might sound a little ridiculous._
> 
> _When I first met you in Madam Malkin’s – how it pains me to accept that I was indeed a prat back then – I have been mesmerised by you. You were scrawny – yes, you were, Kitten, don’t bother denying that –, so small even for a eleven-year-old, I thought you seemed a little skittish when you first entered the shop, not to mention bewildered at all the magical display in the Madam Malkin’s, but your eyes, they were_ amazing _. You have yet to come into your inheritance then, but your eyes were already so soulful – they shined of sweet innocence, subdued curiosity and courage, that I could not resist initiating small talk with you (please be so kind not to remind me of the outcome of it)._
> 
> _The day when you revealed your inheritance and the secrets of the Sanctuary to us, I am sure you had no idea what kind of effect it had on me, especially when I have already harboured more intimate feelings and intentions towards you by then – which escaped your notice, no doubt; but really, Kitten, do you think I would have offered my lap as a pillow to anyone else? When you removed your glamour and your magic shields, you were the embodiment of sheer perfection, the epitome of magnificence, and my heart ached to reach out and hold you in my arms, making sure that no one else had the chance to see you in your full Elven glory._
> 
> _You symbolise courage and inspiration, My Lion, and I would hate to see that spark in your eyes die out. For this, I offer all of my magical skills and capabilities to aid you in your pursuit, I offer my love and affection to shield you against the harshness of the world, I offer my companionship and absolute support to accompany you throughout the challenges that has yet to come, and I promise to stay true to my words for as long as you would allow me to. I sincerely ask for your acceptance towards my request to Court you, to allow me to embrace you in my wings, to share physical intimacies with you, and to gift you with more than you could ever desire._
> 
> _I fear not of Death, for love is immortal, a spiritual fire that threatens to engulf myself, but burns on for you._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Draco Lucius Malfoy._

Harry couldn’t help but bury his face in his hands after finishing the letter of Intent, Lucius Malfoy have definitely taught his son well! How was it fair that the both of them could make him feel like his face was on fire by mere words? It was very _Draco_ , he could imagine his trademark smirk at all those comments in between his sentences, but there was certainly the seductive Malfoy flair to the missive. He did realise that Draco did behave somewhat differently in front of him, of which Pansy and Blaise would sometimes snidely snicker at, but he had not yet connected the dots – now he felt so naive to think that it was only because Draco had a preference for close physical intimacies with his friends...

But now that he thought about it, he was a great deal more accepting towards Draco’s touch; it took him quite some time before he could restrain his flinch and get used to it every time the Weasleys or Hermione hugged him, but he was only spooked once or twice when Draco first casually placed his hands over his shoulders, and after a while, he even sought out closeness with Draco – his friends must have already realised that, since they kept cooing (albeit with a little jealous accusation) every time he was found with his head on Draco’s shoulders or thighs.

He opened Draco’s gift with anticipation, he was sure he was going to be spoilt with all these gifts coming from the Slytherins! He was a little surprised at the simple bracelet that appeared before him, it was an elegant golden bracelet with some simple adornments along its length, but there was nothing fancy about it although he could sense a rather unique magical aura surrounding the bracelet.

It was when he slipped the bracelet onto his left wrist (after taking off the one with the bouquets, which he promptly weaved it into a wreath and placed it on the bed headboard) that he got a shock. It fitted immediately to his wrist and with a flash of golden light, it moulded to his skin and extended upwards spreading itself like a serpent around his wrist and lower arm, forming a somewhat cyclic pattern on his arm. It wasn’t painful or intrusive, but the transformation surprised Harry so much that he nearly stumbled off the bed. Staring at the pattern in disbelief, he snorted, how could he have ever thought that a Malfoy would be _simple_?

Searching through the wrappers, he did find Draco’s note to explain his gift:

> _There is no need to panic, Kitten, the bracelet is a family heirloom infused with my magic (and some of Father and Uncle Severus’), and is charmed to attach itself to the skin of the wearer. The protective family magic woven into the bracelet will be able to deflect hostile intentions – not that I am encouraging or allowing you to face any danger alone, mind you – and those with at least a decent amount of knowledge in Wizarding traditions would know very well that you are currently being spoken for, and under the protection of your potential suitors; of course, I do not intend the_ potential _to remain there for long. Slytherins do not share, Kitten, while I am willing to oblige the cooperation with my Father and Uncle Severus, our possessiveness will not be able to tolerate your more intimate affections towards any possible rivals, unless you have rejected our Courting – that I sincerely hope would not occur._

Harry was rather horrified that he actually felt all sweet, warm and fuzzy over Draco’s possessive declarations instead of being angry at his words; he wondered whether was it because he had a greater tolerance for the proud Slytherin, or was it that he had unknowing longed for a relationship that was like this – sweet affection and thoughtfulness, together with possessive love and desire – and that Draco had saw through it.   

Thinking that he might as well just get all the letters over and done with, since he couldn’t very well get the blush off his face anyway, he reached for the last letter, which left little mystery to who the sender was.

> _Harry_ – finally, a normal address that led Harry to sigh in relief –,
> 
> _I am sure that the Malfoys would have explained the situation in their Courting Intents since knowing the Malfoys, they cannot stand not being in control of the situation, so I will refrain from reiterating the same information for fear of boring you to death – although I am expecting that you are still, rather overwhelmed by the situation and have not been able to feel bored as of yet, neither would I hope for you to feel bored thereafter, for it would imply a less than desirable attribute of ourselves, is it not?_
> 
> _I have thought that this might come as rather unexpected for you, for I have ignored and resisted the pull for as long as I could, and as Lucius have smugly pointed out, it was entirely irrational and a stupidity for me to avoid a fine mate such as yourself out of the worry that you might hold reservations against my intentions, simply because of the unsavoury past that we share. I was blind to not notice and acknowledge that you had never held the grudge against any of us ever since we have overcome the ghosts of our pasts this year, and I was foolish to let my fears overrule my desire for you as my lifelong mate._
> 
> _I do not know if you are aware, but your mother and I were good friends when we were both in school, she was one of the few students who saw me just as another normal student, and one who would stand up for me when the pranks of the marauders grew to be unbearable. When you came to Hogwarts in your First Year, I was both relieved and fearful to find that you had those eyes of hers, the same emerald green, but you looked so much like your father – back then I refused to associate anything of Lily’s to James Potter; so I fled from the fact and sought to belittle you at every round, the more you hated me, the better. I did not want those eyes focused on me, but I did not realise that seeing the fury and resentment in that same eyes would be even more painful. You could imagine my internal turmoil when I realised that you came across my most humiliating memories last year, on the one hand, I was furious that a student, a Gryffindor no less, have witnessed the past that I tried so hard to hide; on the other hand, I was fearful of seeing pity in your eyes, your eyes that were so similar yet entirely different from your mothers’._
> 
> _I could have deluded myself with this belief until this year, when I was forced to face the fact that you were very much different from your father – courtesy of Albus and Lucius – and you were not the pampered, arrogant Golden Boy that I tried to convince myself you were. You were compassionate, focused, dedicated to a cause, and independent, at the same time, I found that you were also an attractive young man with fears, and the ghosts of the past and impending war were haunting you; you were fearful of involving friends into danger yet you willingly commit yourself for the safety of their life and sanity, you were hungry for some sort of guidance and support yet you portray yourself as the independent and strong figure that your friends are allowed to rely on, I found it intriguing, that you were so much of an enigma. I could not help myself from being attracted to you the more I grew to know you – the sweet innocence and trusting dependence when we were brewing together, the astounding power and stubborn will when you explored the possibilities that the Sanctuary could adopt, the vulnerable emotionality and young uncertainty when you came in seeking comfort after the incident with Albus and the Horcrux..._
> 
> _I am a sore and bitter man, Harry, and I am afraid I cannot promise to offer you affection and love as tradition requires, for I do not know if I am able to express my emotions as freely as you may want me to. However, I promise to always be faithful and true to you, to ensure that you feel safe and treasured in my arms, and I promise to never withhold any crucial information from you. I offer you a listening ear when you need it, a supportive embrace to heal the wounds of your heart, the experiences of my own less-than-pleasant past to assure you that you are not alone. I offer my skills as a Potions Master, a Master Duellist and a Dark Arts Practitioner to support you in any way you need or want, to protect you and stand by you in all of your battles. I also offer you my abilities to command the Vampire Coven as is my birth right of a descendant of the royal lineage of the Shadow Daemons – I will not allow you to visit the Vampires without my presence, Harry, be sure of that – to use as you see fit._
> 
> _I ask that you accept my request of Courting, to allow me the opportunity to envelope you in as much comfort and tenderness as I can afford, to understand you further to the depths of your desires, worries and fears. In return, I will seek to be the comfort of your heart and mind, and to let loose my shields and emotions in your presence._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Severus Tobias Snape._  

Heart-warming tears trickled down Harry’s cheeks as he finished reading Severus’ letter – it didn’t make his heart flutter and swoon like the letters of Lucius and Draco’s did, but it just felt so... _intimate_. He knew that Severus wasn’t a person who would, in his own description of Harry’s nature, wear his heart on his sleeves, but the letter was amazingly emotional, he could feel the outpour of emotions between and beyond the lines, and he strongly suspected that Severus had struggled with the writing of this letter.

It wasn’t a surprise to him that Severus did not promise him love and affection (he did realise that when Neville described the bouquet to him, there was no promise of affection or admiration in this bouquet), since Severus was an extremely private person – even the Malfoys have complained a few times that he did not confide in them – but his promise of faithfulness and truthfulness, and the offer to comfort and support him emotionally was probably the equivalent of bearing his heart and soul for Harry. And the thought of that… was sweet and heartening beyond measure.

Deftly opening the parcel attached to the letter, he rolled the crystal globe contained inside gently between his fingers, astounded by the small object. He recognised the charm placed on the crystal globe – it was one of those that Godric had explained to him before, that were able to link the caster’s emotions towards a specific person or object to a physical item; but those charms were often temporary. Severus’ gift, however, included a few shadows fragments of his own dancing within the crystal confinement – it was rumoured that shadows summoned by a Shadow Daemon was always linked to their powers and magic – that he presumed, was to constantly power those charms.

He read the note that accompanied it.

> _I cannot promise you open and direct affections, but I seek to allow you to understand what I feel for you to my utmost abilities; the shadows will also act as an emergency portkey to transport you to my side if the need arises. The shadows will warn off unwarranted advances from any of my related kin, do indulge me in the need to Mark you as my Intended._

Harry took a closer look at the flickering colours and shadows in the crystal globe, it was currently flashing between shades of amber and pinkish-bronze – probably signalling a sense of nervous uncertainty and anticipation that Severus was currently experiencing for sending the Courting Intents.

Smiling in contentment at the gift, he charmed it onto the necklace from Lucius, touching both the gifts reverently as his thoughts raced.

He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to the three of them – the thought of that terrified him a bit, frankly – and their gifts were all so thoughtful and endearing that it would be a sin not to accept and appreciate them. To be truthful, the more he thought about it, the more he realised that they treated him _really_ differently from the others, and he was growing to be increasingly dependent on their strong support and gentle affection – Merlin he even went directly to them for comfort that night back from the cave instead of his friends (his best friends that had supported him for all his life in Hogwarts, _really_!).

But then again, was this an appropriate time to accept Courting Intents at all? Especially from those who would be prime targets of Voldemort should their identity leak out to the public? Not to mention that he wasn’t even sure he would survive the battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters – he had help, yes, but who could predict the outcome out of the chaos of a full-fledged battle?

Tucking the letters carefully in his robe, he cancelled the charms and left the room.

He needed some advice, and he needed it _now_.


	17. Accepting Promises

Harry took a shortcut passage that Hogwarts provided him with, and arrived at the door of Gryffindor’s chambers in no time. He looked at the main portrait in the room as he entered, and was unsurprised that they weren’t there – since there were numerous portraits of other rooms and scenes, they tended to wander about quite a lot. Salazar claimed that he wanted to enjoy precious time with his lifemate around these different portraits; Harry pointed out once the fact that they had unlimited time as portraits, but the glare he received effectively prevented any further mention of that.

He turned into Godric’s personal library to retrieve a few books before asking for them, but he stopped dead in his tracks upon stepping into the library.

“Wha- Sorry!” He stepped back out of the room, covering his eyes – he _so_ did not need to see _that_!

A few minutes later, a dishevelled-looking Godric appeared in the portrait, together with a smirking Salazar, who took great pleasure in watching his Heir fidget uncomfortably, “Really, Harry, Ric did not even have his shirt removed, will you try not to look as if you had barged into a group orgy or something equivalent?”

“Sal!” Godric admonished before Harry tried to respond – thank Merlin for that, he _did not_ know what was the appropriate response to accidentally walking in on his ancestors making out; portraits nonetheless!

Salazar made himself comfortable on the seat in the main portrait, and leisurely pulled his lifemate onto his lap, finally changing the topic in a lazy drawl, “So what is the emergency that made you barge into Ric’s chambers without prior notice?”

Harry was glad at the switch in focus, but was a little hesitant in spelling out his problems.

“Stop mumbling, Harry, I thought we broke you out of that habit,” Salazar chastised but his tone suggested amusement instead.

“I received Courting Intents,” Harry repeated, a little louder this time.

Godric immediately lifted himself off Salazar’s lap and brushed off the possessive grip on his arm, coming closer towards the edge of the portrait, his face expressing barely concealed excitement, “Have they finally sent you Courting Intents? I was going to threaten them to get a move on or just forget about Courting you if they didn’t make a decision soon…”

Harry looked up surprised, “Wait, what do you mean? You knew?”

“Harry dear, although they have only been here for a few times, I would have to be blind to ignore the heated looks they give you,” Godric commented dryly, “I’m afraid you’re the only one totally oblivious to it, though.”

“Wha- I- but that can’t be-” Harry snapped his mouth shut as he realised that he couldn’t form an intelligent retort.

Salazar glided up behind Godric and asked interestedly, “Have you decided whether to respond to their advances or not?”

Harry stared at him helplessly, “Should I?”

Godric placed a hand on Salazar’s arm, stopping him from answering, “That should be your decision and yours alone, Harry. We can give you some advice if you wish, but not before you have come to a tentative decision on this Courting. Will talking your thoughts with us help, or would you prefer to contemplate privately first?”

Harry shrugged, “I’d like to talk, I guess; I don’t know what to think about it.”

“Hmm,” Godric hummed as Salazar tugged him back onto his lap once more, “Maybe you should start on what you see in them? What do you think makes them desirable, and what might be their weak points? And are you willing to tolerate and work with their weak points – although traditional Courting is a period to get to know your suitors better, you have already spent a lot of time with them, so I think you could make a relatively reliable judgement of their character.”

Harry started thinking seriously about the question, but as he answered, he ended up blabbing about his feelings – deeper than he intended to divulge – about how he found the strong embrace and gentle caresses from Lucius comforting and enticing; about how he felt intrigued by Severus’ sarcastic yet witty remarks, and touched by the emotional openness the man have offered; about how he found Draco’s slightly possessive behaviour endearing; and then realised that both Godric and Salazar were barely holding back amused laughter.

“What?” Harry was slightly affronted by their reactions.

Godric exchanged a look with Salazar before smiling at him, “You know, Harry, with all you’ve said, I would think that you have already made a decision whether to accept their Courting Intents or not, haven’t you?”

Harry paused for a moment, then realised with a blush that his rambling indeed showed that he was _rather_ receptive towards their Intents. Scowling at the two Founders, he grumbled, “Fine, I get the idea. What am I supposed to do though?”

“Tradition demands that you send them back a note of acceptance, which you can choose to use its letter form, or to just do it your own style,” Godric gestured towards the library that Harry had just stumbled out of before their talk, “There should be a few books on Courting in my library, feel free to skim through them; and you should receive their second gift and letter soon after that, to which you will start corresponding to them as you will with normal letters from friends and family. Even if you see each other practically every day, the letters would be beneficial for things you find hard to vocalise, or things that might slip your mind when you are in their presence.”

Harry nodded and frowned, “I’m guessing that I’m not supposed to send gifts back to them, am I? But I don’t really like the idea of not giving them anything at all…”

Godric smiled mischievously, “It is true that tradition states that the Courted is the only one who’s supposed to receive gifts, since the acceptance is seen as a gift for the suitors in itself; but there’s nothing against sending them things that are _not_ gifts, are they?”

“What would not be considered gifts, then?”

Salazar flicked his thumb against Godric’s cheek affectionately, “Ric sent me pressed flower bookmarks and similar trinkets in his letters, it was really cute.”

“It was _not_ _cute_ , Sal!”Godric glared at him, “Not _cute_ , not _adorable_ or anything similar!”

Harry grinned, marvelling at the indulgent expression Salazar gave Godric as he agreed not to use any description equivalent to “cute” for his lifemate – at least temporarily. “Salazar Courted you when you were both teaching in Hogwarts?”

Salazar scowled, “Rowena was vehemently against any public displays of affection between the staff that were not bonded or married, we could only pursue a relationship in private – since we were both Founders and professors, and that I was a Potions Brewer while Ric was a Spell Weaver, we had little private time in common, so we had to resort to letters in a traditional Courting. The allowance for intimate gestures in public was a good addition since even Rowena cannot find fault with it after the declaration of Courting Intent is made known.”

Harry quickly muffled a laugh, he definitely heard some not-so-kind comments about “moody women” and “too uptight to get her own relationship” muttered as Godric cleared his throat gently to stop his lifemate from cursing their fellow Founder any further.

“So what does the rest of the Courting entail?” Deciding that he wasn’t really willing to read up on all the aspects of Courting – knowing Godric and Salazar, the library probably has more than a dozen books on the topic.

“Basically, it is a period to get to know your suitors better, for traditional Courting, at least, thus the letters,” Salazar explained, “However, considering that your suitors have creature inheritances, especially the two Veelas, it would also be a period of time to get yourself acquainted to the idea of being in their close company – Veelas are unlikely to allow their Chosen out of sight for too long since they are fearful of potential rivals, and Shadow Daemons are extremely possessive – and dealing with jealousy issues. For them, Courting is a period for them to woo their Chosen, display their strength and power, as well as their ability to protect and provide for you, and persuade you that they are the best choice of mate by garnering most, if not all, of your attention and eliminating possible competition.”

“Eliminating possible competition?” Harry had a bad feeling about this.

Salazar smiled wryly, “Once they receive your note of acceptance, their creature instincts would be highly active and aware, as they are dominant in nature – yes, they are, no doubt – they would be extremely possessive over you, and they will be constantly vying for your attention. If they feel threatened by a potential rival not included in the Courting, they might issue a challenge to prove to you that they are stronger and better, or they might try to force the rival to back down. Of course, because they have to keep it to a minimum before they make a formal declaration to the public, it would not be as obvious, but if I were you, I would still keep a safe distance and limited physical contact with my friends to prevent them from getting into trouble with jealous Veelas and Shadow Daemons.”

Godric continued when he saw Harry’s panicked expression, “Don’t worry, Harry, their jealousy will tone down after the first few months into Courting, especially if you can reassure them that you find them attractive and desirable regularly.”

“Um, how am I supposed to reassure them, then?”

Godric pondered a while, “It’s different for everyone, I guess; it might be better to have some physical reassurances to soothe and comfort their creature side, like hugs and things like that? You will be spending some private time with them as well, so you could negotiate some form of agreement as well.”

Harry thought in silence for a while, and then asked in a hesitant tone, “… but what if I can’t?”

“Can’t what?”

“What if I can’t make a choice?” Harry blurted, and promptly blushed in embarrassment, “I- I mean…”

Godric smiled, “We know what you mean, Harry. You don’t need to make a choice if you don’t want to.”

“What does that mean?” Harry raised a brow in question.

“Do not think in a muggle perspective, Harry,” Salazar frowned, “You are a wizard. Your compatibility with your mate, or mates, is dependent on your magical strength; and your own magical strength is far greater than the average wizard. Even if Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape are powerful wizards in their own right – and Draco Malfoy developing to be as well – they are not comparable to your own magical level.”

“Great, another thing to make me different,” Harry mumbled, he really hated to be marked “special” or different from being normal.

“Harry, that is not something you should feel ashamed of,” Godric stared at him, repeating seriously, “Look at me, Harry, _this is not to be ashamed of_. In fact, you should be proud of your magical powers, it is proof that your lineage, or you at the very least, has been honourable and loyal to Mother Magic, that She has not forsaken you. You are a Childe of Magic, be proud of it!”

Harry looked distracted for a moment, but properly chastened next – he knew the importance and significance of magical strength in relation to Mother Magic, and should not have let his own feelings overwhelmed himself.

Godric’s expression softened, “Be proud of your magic, Harry, be proud of yourself. Being special is not something that is bad. I know you resent being different from others, but instead of running away from it; embrace it, child – think, if not for being different and special, would you have encountered Ragnok and Faela? Would you have found my chambers, or spoken to us? Would you have been able to learn to understand and even learn to _like_ the Slytherins? Yes, unfortunate things have happened because of your being special, but Harry, unfortunate things happen to everyone in life – forgive me, but even if your parents have not been targeted by Voldemort, can you say that they would never have died in the battle against Voldemort back then, given that they were active members of the Order?”

“No but Godric, they died _because_ of me!” Harry argued, “They would never have died in Godric’s Hollow if Voldemort wasn’t after me!”

Godric looked unusually stern and solemn, “Harry, you know as well as I do that they had a choice; they did not retreat into the Potter Manor – Merlin only knows why they didn’t – the family wards would have been a better defence than the Fidelius; and when Voldemort attacked them, they could have chosen to preserve their own lives, of course, if wouldn’t have reflected well on them, but they had a better chance of survival if they managed to escape than a young, helpless infant. Your mother made a choice to protect you, to exchange her life for yours; should you be ashamed of surviving, you will be dishonouring her decision and sacrifice.”

Harry froze at that.

“You must understand, Harry, unfortunate things happen in life,” Godric’s tone returned to its usual gentleness, “It would do no good to blame yourself for the unforeseen tragedies. Yes, you have made some wrong choices that ended badly, but your choice alone would not have caused the event itself. What you should do is to make the best of it. You don’t like them staring at you for being the Boy-Who-Lived because you don’t think you deserve it – then _make_ yourself deserve their awe and respect, live up to their expectations, and make that admiration _earned_. Maybe you cannot escape from fate, but you can try to enjoy it.”

Harry smiled faintly and nodded – Godric have always been a good counsellor for the heart; and he agreed, since he had no way of running from the inevitable, he might as well try to enjoy the process of going up against the odds.

Salazar coaxed Godric to leaning back against his chest before turning his gaze onto Harry, “Now, back to where we were before this discussion, because you are stronger in terms of magical strength, it is likely that you would need more than one mate to balance out your magical level to appease your Elven side,” Smiling slyly, he concluded, “So you might not need to choose at all, Harry, you could just take all.”

Harry blushed and spluttered, while Godric glared at him, “Really, Sal, couldn’t you have said it in a different way?” Turning back to Harry, he explained, “While many wizards and witches are monogamous, bonding or marriages to multiple partners is not uncommon, but it is more common for those with creature inheritances or of ancient bloodlines, because other wizards and witches would be fairly matched in magical strength and levels. It is important for mates of a powerful magical creature to be able to ground his or her magic, so that it doesn’t get out of hand when there are emotional upheavals.”

“Really?” Harry asked hopefully, although he’s trying to come to terms to being unique, he didn’t want to stand out any more than he is already.

“Yes, in fact, I would have had a second mate if Sal here hadn’t been dreadfully petty and jealous – our generation looked upon a magically mismatched couple with much disapproval, although I understand that it is more liberal for your generation, at least for the human wizards and witches,” Godric rolled his eyes as Salazar tightened his hold in response.

Harry eyed Salazar curiously, “So Salazar wasn’t equally matched to you?”

Ignoring Salazar’s murderous glare at Harry, Godric grinned and mock-whispered, “He really wasn’t, but he didn’t want to allow me to accept another suitor, so he challenged a few Lords to Duels of Magic and Honour.”

“Huh?”

“The victor of the Duel magically conquers the other’s familial magic, which increases their own innate magic after it is merged together in their magical core,” Godric explained, “I think Salazar conquered three ancient family lines?”

“Four,” Salazar corrected.

“Four, then, but he wasn’t that far off my own magical level in the first place,” Godric nodded, “So I didn’t require another suitor after that, and Sal was appeased, happy ending.”

“I see,” Harry stared at Salazar contemplatively, until Salazar glared and muttered a few select curses in parseltongue before turning away, “I think I know what I’m going to send them now, I’ll come back to see you in two days?”

“Of course,” Godric agreed, but Salazar gave a verbal jab in revenge, “Try not to interrupt us again next time, Harry, I may not be as forgiving if I am disturbed in enjoying my time with my lifemate in private.”

Seeing Harry’s rapidly reddening cheeks, Salazar smirked, “Oh, and do remember to tell your suitors to drop by sometime soon, we would like to speak to them. _Individually_ , and _privately_.”

* * *

 

Neville, Ron and Hermione had been pestering Harry all day since he received the Courting Intents the day before, and Harry had been flustering all the way but giving nothing away.

“Have you accepted the Courtship, Harry?” Hermione asked curiously over her History of Magic textbook.

Harry flushed but busied himself scribbling notes on his parchment. Hermione gave Ron an amused look, who leaned closer to Harry, “Really, Harry, have you sent a note of acceptance or not?” They weren’t interested in the identity of the mysterious suitors – they sort of guessed anyway – but they were curious how long will it take for Harry to make a decision; he didn’t mention anything to them, and they respected his privacy when he obviously ran off to pour over the contents of the letter, so they really have no idea.

“I’m not saying anything,” Harry mumbled as he continued writing with his head down, refusing to look at them in the eye.

Neville moved closer to Harry’s seat just short of touching, leaning towards Harry and glanced over to the other side of the classroom. Grinning at what he saw, he poked Ron and made a subtle gesture towards the side, which drew both Ron and Hermione’s attention towards Draco Malfoy.

Seeing the glare sent towards Neville, both of them shared a knowing nod. They knew that the suitors, especially magical beings, could only express outward signs of jealousy and extreme possessiveness when their Chosen have acknowledged their Courting which marked that start of the Chase – and Draco was definitely _fuming_ right now. But since Neville scooted away from Harry after that, his closeness wouldn’t be seen as a challenge against the suitors’ preliminary claim yet.

Hermione smiled and patted Harry’s elbow lightly, “Okay, Harry, just- just tell us when you’re comfortable about it.”

Harry gave her a wary glance, a little spooked by the ease at which they backed off the issue, but nodded all the same.

As the class ended, Neville, Hermione and Ron made a quick retreat to the dorms after receiving an intent stare from Draco, knowing that the Slytherin probably wanted to talk to Harry alone.

Harry packed his stuff into his satchel, idly watching his friends rush off – they were behaving very weirdly today, which made him feel rather unnerved. He left the classroom, walking towards the library intent on getting a few books for his assignment when a pair of arms wound around his waist and pulled him into a dark alcove.

“Your friends are too close to you for my liking, Kitten,” Draco’s husky drawl sent shivers down Harry’s back, “I am jealous.”

“Draco!” Harry managed to squeak out his name, blushing furiously, surprised but glad all the same.

Draco nuzzled his neck gently, his breath warm on Harry’s skin, “The Millirahmstrudel you sent with the note last night was delicious, so much better than what I’ve tried in the restaurants in Vienna and Paris. I hope you intend to make more in the future, the taste is simply addictive, just like you.”

Harry turned in his embrace to face Draco, smiling shyly, “I’m glad you liked it, I wanted to make something else but I wasn’t sure what the three of you would like or not…”

Pulling Harry closer to him, Draco murmured softly, “As long as it’s from you, I’m sure everything will be absolutely _brilliant_ , Harry. But if you would like to know, I am partial to chocolate, Father is rather addicted to caramel although he claims not to like something as plebeian as that, and Uncle Severus prefers citrus flavours.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes brightened at the imparted information, already thinking of possible desserts that he could make; even if his falcons or Hedwig can’t carry them, he could always ask the House elves to deliver them.

Draco smiled and leaned closer, breathing in Harry’s scent, “Do you have an appointment with someone now or later?”

“No, why?” Harry wriggled in his embrace as Draco’s breath ghosting over his skin made his rather ticklish.

“Good,” Draco smiled, and pulled him towards the Slytherin dormitory, “I’d like to have you to myself for a while.”

Harry allowed himself to be lead passively along the way, unsure whether he should feel befuddled at Draco making the decision for him, or whether he should be amused at Draco’s antics. But any amount of indignity he felt at being pulled along like this dissolved when Draco kept turning his head back to give him all those adoring yet uncertain looks, as if he wanted to make sure that Harry was still following him even though he had Harry’s wrist firmly in his hand.

One of the advantages of being a prefect is that they were entitled to the use of the prefect bathroom and a prefect lounge, which is also shared with the Head Boy and Head Girl – although not everyone makes use of it, Ron, for example, prefers to stick to the normal dormitory showers and the common room.

Flicking his wand, Draco made sure that other prefects would steer clear of the room, and led Harry to the couch, sitting down close and pressing his thigh against Harry’s.

Staring hard at Harry for a moment, Draco started solemnly, “I’m really glad you accepted our Courtship, Harry. I wasn’t really sure that you would…”

“So says the one that wrote that he didn’t intend to be a _potential_ suitor for long,” Harry teased, grinning as Draco scowled in response. Draco commented dryly, “Glad that you found my insecurity amusing, Harry. We’ve been hitting on you for at least a month now, and you had absolutely no response, excuse me if I couldn’t be sure of your inclinations.”

Seeing the incredulous look on Harry’s face, Draco couldn’t help but laugh, gently caressing Harry’s slender fingers as he spoke, “Really, Harry, the entire Slytherin House could tell that I was interested in you – even your Gryffindor friends have found out – and you seriously didn’t know? Well, Father and Uncle Severus was less obvious, I’ll admit, although I thought it was fairly indicative since you don’t see anyone else touching your hair, your face, shoulders and all, do you?”

“You do it all the time!” Harry exclaimed.

Draco gave him a look that clearly spelled “well-I- _am-_ Courting-you-aren’t-I”, which made him blush in slight embarrassment, “Oh, right. It’s not as if I ever thought about this, okay? I’ve been a bit busy, you know, trying to escape a madman and stay alive and all…”

His attempt at humour, however, was not well received. Draco’s hold on his hand tightened and his eyes became imploringly bright, “You won’t have to do this on your own, now, Harry. Father, Uncle Severus and I will be with you all the way; I don’t know what they Promised you in their Courting, but I know that both of them, and myself will protect you, fight by you, support and comfort you. We will never let you face those horrors alone, Harry. Never.”

Harry could almost feel the corners of his eyes starting to wet, it was reassuring enough as he read their letters, but to hear Draco repeat those Promises with a fierce determination, it was beyond comforting, it made him feel all warm and comforted, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel ashamed for feeling dependent on someone.

Draco clearly sensed his moment of vulnerability, and his expression softened, bringing Harry’s hand to his lips, and peppered his fingers with light kisses, “You have been strong for everyone for so long, rely on us for now. Let us protect you, let us fulfil our Promises. Please, Harry.”

The burning earnest in Draco’s eyes melted all of Harry’s defences, he didn’t answer but leaned against Draco’s shoulders and gave a soft sigh. Draco smiled and adjusted his position to better allow Harry to lie against him, stroking away a lock of ebony hair that covered Harry’s forehead.

“So what happens now?” Harry finally asked after a few moments of comfortable silence, “I asked Godric and Salazar about Courting customs, but I still want to hear from you. How will it go from here?”

“Hmm,” Draco pondered carefully, “I think the Founders would have known about the increased attention and gifts; for a Veela, since you’ve already acknowledged and accepted my pursuit, it’ll be… difficult for me to stay a distance away from you, I have to know your whereabouts – at least a vague idea of where, with whom, doing what – or I might get worked up that there is an unnamed rival who has garnered your attention. I want, no, _need_ to touch you more than before, and I will want to…” gulping as if he was struggling to get the words out, “I’ll want to show off to you, to demonstrate my strength, to demonstrate what I am capable of, to prove that I am better than the rest – and that is still before we make a public declaration that we are Courting you.”

“Will it change after the declaration?” Harry titled his head in confusion.

“Yes,” Draco swallowed hard before continuing, watching Harry with a burning gaze that could almost akin to hunger, “When a public declaration is made, we get free reign on a general level of physical intimacy and our creature instincts would run wild. By then, I will desire to wrap you in my wings and to hold you tight in my arms; I will desire to prove my ability to provide for you – I might even want to feed you myself as you lean on me and trust what I have prepared for you; I will try to comfort and soothe you with my allure when you are hurt, until you relax in my embrace and fall asleep. I will grow to be jealous of those who are able to capture your attention and hold it, those who touch you inappropriately, and my emotions might be on a wild swing because of that, or rather, I’ll become- feral, for a lack of a better word.”

Harry pursed his lips thoughtfully, he knew that it would be hard dealing with the creature instincts – he could only thank fate that at least the Elves did not manifest instincts as strong as Veelas and others – but this was something he _wanted_ to try, something he believed that he would like. “What about me?”

Draco was caught off guard by Harry’s question, he had expected Harry to perhaps object to the almost-smothering nature of the Veela’s affections during a Courting period, or to dismiss it as a challenge that he could overcome, but not this question.

“You’ve told me about what you will want to _do_ ,” Harry touched his arm gently, “But you didn’t tell me what you need of me?”

Draco’s immediate reaction was to grasp the hand that had just touched his arm, interlacing their fingers and pressing the back of Harry’s hand against his knee, “I- I will need you to touch me, to tell me that you welcome my advances, to let me do things for you, and to focus – well, more or less – your attention on me when I need it.”

Harry hummed in agreement, stroking Draco’s palm as he spoke, “Okay, I can do that, I think. Is it the same for Shadow Daemons?”

“Well, the need to demonstrate strength and ability is the same, but I doubt Uncle Severus would be showing off like Father and I might choose to do; possibly it would be more like eliminating threats and dangers to you quietly to ensure that you are always safe; though I think that Shadow Daemons are a great deal more possessive than Veelas, if he saw what Longbottom did in class just now after a public declaration was made, he would probably terrorise Longbottom into fleeing the classroom in seconds.”

“And you didn’t want to?” Somehow Harry was a little sceptical.

“I wanted to,” Draco admitted, “The Veela in me was screaming for me to hold you in my wings and to rip him apart, but I understood that he was testing me, so I could let it go, which was also part of the reason I had the need to grab hold of you after class.”

“Testing you? You mean-” Harry finally understood their weird reactions in class, “Those sneaky fiends!”

“I can understand your interactions with your friends, kitten, really,” Draco’s expression looked pained, “But for my peace of mind, please try to keep a distance from them?”

Harry couldn’t help but stroke Draco’s palm firmer, “Of course, Draco, and I will tell them not to do something like that again.”

“And Weasley better not call you ‘mate’ again,” Draco growled warningly, his hold on Harry tightening.

Harry laughed, “Draco, did you just- _growl_?”

“Malfoys do not growl,” Draco sniffed indignantly, “Stop laughing at me!”

Harry laughed even harder as Draco tickled him mercilessly in retaliation of making fun of him, and the two of them rolled onto the floor in a tickle fight, which only ended as Harry admitted defeat. The two of them scrambled back up onto the couch, cuddling and basking in the comfortable setting as they settled to talk about other mundane things before Harry finally stood up to leave just before curfew.

Draco insisted on following him back to the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor towers, claiming that it wasn’t inconvenient since he had to complete his prefect rounds anyway.

Stopping in front of the Fat Lady, Harry turned around to look at Draco, then shyly leaned forward to press a kiss to Draco’s cheek, whispering a little embarrassedly, “I really have no clue to this whole relationship thing, so we’ll have to just- go slow, okay?” Well, that and the fact that he was still a little unsure about his decision to pursue a relationship with them under such dangerous circumstances.

Draco looked pleasantly surprised, and a tender look entered his eyes as his thumb caressed Harry’s cheek gently, leaning forward, he burrowed his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, sniffing deeply and murmuring soothingly, “Slow, yes, slow. I want you to willingly give yourself to me- to us.”

Finally, he lifted his head and cupped Harry’s face to stare into his eyes adoringly, he lowered his lips to leave a soft kiss on Harry’s forehead, and a low whisper, “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night,” Harry returned, watching as Draco left and turn down the corridor. Upon seeing the amused and “oh-so-romantic” look on the Fat Lady’s face, he muttered the password and added, “Not a word about this. _Not a word_.”


	18. The Ministry Party

“Remind me again why am I doing this?” Harry tugged at his dress robes, whining at a pleasantly satisfied Narcissa. “These things are awful!”

“Nonsense, darling, they look wonderful on you,” Narcissa pacified him, smoothing out the hems of the dress robes that Harry had just tugged at, she had been in a good mood ever since Harry agreed to let her dress him up for the Ministry Party. “Now, you are here for a celebration of your achievements, do not look so distraught, Harry dear, give me a sweet little smile- _perfect_.”

Lucius smiled at the flustered-looking Harry, swooping down to place a chaste kiss on his cheek, ever since the Courting started, Harry has been showered with light kisses and cuddles from them, and he himself would sometimes initiate it as well. “You look absolutely gorgeous, love, I can assure you that; and I am sure that Severus and Draco would both agree with me. Now what are you going to do with your hair?”

Another of Narcissa’s victory was that she has successfully convinced Harry to let the glamour on his hair fall tonight – and even got him to agree to add a different glamour when he was back in school to make it look as if he was slowly growing his hair out.

Harry looked up shyly at Lucius, and sent a nervous glance at Narcissa, who sent back an encouraging nod, finally asking, “I was wondering whether you could braid it for me, I mean, I know some of the braiding charms but I’m not good at it- and Narcissa said- um-”

“Shhh,” Lucius brushed his thumb across Harry’s lips to stop his rambling, looking at him tenderly, “Of course I would like to braid your hair, Harry. It is-” His tone faltered in trying to find the appropriate term, “It is an honour, love.”

Traditionally, the hair has always been seen as an indication to one’s spiritual connections, and Lords typically wore their hair long, while Heirs would start growing out their hair as they approach their majority, or when they are prepared to start their own family and take on more family duties. Especially for the magical folk – well, at least the purebloods – it signifies mystical powers, and magical connections to the terrestrial realm and the other realm. To be given permission to touch another’s hair, especially a magical being – Elves are inherently connected to the earthly and spiritual realm, mythical legends purport that they were favoured by Mother Magic – is an immense honour, and an extreme gesture of trust.

Threading his fingers through the silky strands of ebony locks, Lucius carefully combed his fingers through Harry’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as he meticulously braided Harry’s hair into an intricate traditional braid style, leaving some of the hair loose around Harry’s neck and back, and looping the separate braids into a complex pattern that Harry knew he could never achieve himself.

Amusement ran through Lucius’ eyes as Harry started purring under his ministrations; deftly rubbing his thumbs in circles, he was rewarded with a more purring, and couldn’t help chuckling at Harry’s adorable state.

“Stop it, Lucius,” Harry protested weakly as he struggled to suppress his purring, “You are making me sleepy.”

Lucius continued his braiding, thankful for Narcissa’s good sense of leaving the room, for he was sure she would have noticed his… rather inappropriate physical reactions to Harry’s purring and the protest that almost sounded innocently husky. “And what is wrong with that, love?”

“I can’t think like this, and I’m supposed to perform for the Party,” Harry tried to glare at Lucius but failed.

Lucius’ Veela preened at his success in making his Chosen extraordinarily relaxed, giving up all control and self-restraint, he whispered hoarsely into Harry’s ear, “But love, _I_ like this, with you so relaxed and trusting, it feels _so good_ to know that my Chosen feels no need to hold back in front of me… That you do not mind being vulnerable and _so open_ to me, and that I am allowed to hold you in your defenceless state…”

Harry shuddered, feeling Lucius warm breath over the shell of his ear, and near the nape of his neck, making him feel as if the room temperature has gone up without them knowing, and making him slump boneless against Lucius’ chest. “Lucius,” he whined – almost moaned – petulantly. He knew he was immune to a Veela’s allure, but that doesn’t mean he was immune to his Veela suitor’s attempts at seduction.

“Love,” Lucius finished braiding Harry’s hair and opted to pull Harry upward, his back flush against Lucius’ chest, with an arm wound around the slim waist and another across Harry’s chest and shoulders, “You do know that your protests are rather feeble when you are leaning so comfortably in my arms, yes?”

Harry huffed but didn’t disagree, neither did he make to leave Lucius’ embrace.

“I know you are well-prepared for the demonstration, Harry, do not fret over it. You will do well, I believe that you will, and even if anything goes wrong, I will be there. I will make sure there is nothing wrong, trust me,” Lucius murmured into Harry’s ear soothingly, “Trust me.”

“Mmm,” Harry hummed in agreement, and sighed softly, “I know, I trust you, Lucius; it’s just that… I don’t really like feeling like-” he gestured vaguely at his position in Lucius embrace, “-like this.”

“Like what, Harry?” Lucius stroked his hair and cheeks gently, coaxing him to share his thoughts.

Harry frowned, trying to gain an ounce of concentration when he just felt like purring and melting under Lucius’ talented fingers, “Like… too unaware, like I wouldn’t be able to react and defend myself against immediate danger. To feel so _weak_ and vulnerable when someone else is around, when I could be attacked or someone around me could be attacked, but I won’t be able to pre-empt it.”

Lucius continued massaging Harry’s temple and neck, crooning softly at his Chosen, “But there is no one else here, love, only you and I, and you know that I will never harm you. You are safe in my arms, I will never let harm come to you. You are not weak or vulnerable, but when you are with me, with Severus, or with Draco, you need not always be strong. I know that you are more powerful than us, Harry, but we need to protect you, and we want to – _so badly_ – let us be your protector and defender. I will not ask you to stay behind and leave everything up to us – Merlin only knows how much I want to do that – but I have Promised to be your strength and courage, and I do take it very seriously, literally and metaphorically; I meant it that I will be your strength and shield, your support and courage, love.”

“I know, Lucius, I really do, and I believe you,” Harry snuggled closer to Lucius’ broad chest, sighing softly again, “It’s just… it takes time getting to use to this, you know. I am trying, but I’m still learning how to deal with a relationship… I really appreciate that you, Severus and Draco are willing to take it slowly, but sometimes I wonder whether this is worth it.”

“What do you mean, Harry?” Lucius was alarmed, but he made sure that his voice and touch remained calm and soothing.

Harry turned slightly and pressed his ear against Lucius’ chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that is echoed by the necklace lying against his own heart, trying to find the words he needed, “Please don’t take offence, Lucius; I’m not saying that I’m rejecting the Courtship. But sometimes I wonder… is it worth it for you to put up with me? I mean, it’s not as if you don’t have better choices than me, others who are far more attractive than I am, and much more experienced at this, who would be more willing to move the relationship forward, and won’t flinch or shy away when you try to be more intimate…  

“I don’t know whether I can give you what you want, I don’t even know why the three of you are willing to put up with me, I don’t even know whether-” stopping abruptly, Harry took a deep breath before being able to continue, “-whether I’ll survive the battle against Voldemort.”

Lucius’ expression softened as Harry explained, the insecurity in his voice making him sound so young – he was afraid that Harry might think that starting a relationship with them might not be worth the trouble their reputation would bring to the young Elf, but as long as Harry wasn’t thinking of rejecting them, then everything was fine and well.

“Harry love, listen to me,” Lucius nuzzled Harry lovingly, “We ‘put up’ with you because you are the honourable, wonderful, kind and sweet little lion who have captured our hearts, the powerful yet innocent Gryffindor who offers his trust and affection so forgivingly, the deliciously devious Slytherin who have set up the Sanctuary for us and others.

“I will not deny that I want to touch you more intimately than we have until now, neither will I deny the desire to have you sated in my bed, or swollen with my child. But I also want to enjoy the process to which we build the bond between us, when we experience many first times, that we can recall and recount adoringly in the future, that makes our relationship stronger. You will not be alone in the battle against Voldemort. Do not forget, Harry, we will be fighting with you and for you. You will survive it. And you know what, Harry?” Lucius whispered into Harry’s ear, “The best thing you can give us, is for you to trust us above everything else, and to one day see you relaxed and content in our arms and our bed, watching our children wreak havoc in our home, spending our time together until the end of our lives.”

Harry was touched by the conviction in Lucius’ voice as he spoke, and he nodded. Knowing that he couldn’t stay hidden in the room too long, he reluctantly pushed away from Lucius’ embrace and smoothed down his robes, but before he opened the doors, he turned around to meet Lucius’s eyes – who has already stood up and made sure his robes were impeccable – stood on his toes and leaned forward, and for the first time, pressed his lips against Lucius’.

It was nothing more than a brief touch of soft lips against his own, but Lucius understood the significance of the gesture very well – Harry was willing and ready to try to push their relationship a step forward.

* * *

 

The Ministry Hall was decorated extravagantly – rather excessively in Harry’s opinion, and apparently lacking in style according to Draco – filled with Ministry officials, Lords and Ladies of various Wizarding families, as well as foreign ambassadors invited to witness the demonstrations, or rather, invited for the British Wizarding Ministry to show off talents.

For Draco’s demonstration, he had laced some of the wine with a potion that mimicked the effect of beauty charms – the potion was much longer-lasting than the charms to many of the female guests’ delight – which made many of the guests appear exceptionally attractive tonight, and drove many young Wizards and Witches seeking the laced wine in attempts to draw a partner, or even to make business negotiations and small talk flow smoother for the night.

Hermione, while attaining the highest mark in Arithmancy and History of Magic, did not receive an invitation for the demonstration since the subjects lacked a practical component. Similar restrictions applied to Susan Bones, who have achieved the highest score for Ancient Runes (Runic magic was not covered at O.W.L. levels), Lavender Brown for Divination (Harry rather suspected was because the Ministry thought Divination was mostly a farce), Terry Boot for Muggle Studies (probably because most of the purebloods attending the function had no interest at all), and Lisa Turpin for Astronomy.

Roger Davies performed a wide-ranged Transfiguration of chairs into rather odd-looking miniature foals – despite the awkward movement of the foals, his demonstration was quite impressive given that there were all sorts of different colouring on the foals, and they were all transfigured into different breeds.

The most impressive performance was definitely Neville and Harry’s demonstration, which Severus had affectionately muttered was an example of “insufferable Gryffindor _showy_ tendencies”.

Neville had brought in a trunk-sized flower pot, and after casting a temporary greenhouse dome charm over it, he casted a seasonal charm inside the dome, and hit the flower pot with an accelerated growth charm. The spring flowers bloomed brilliantly, following the guidance of Neville’s magic to intertwine with each other, creating a bed of flowers that had an array of different shades of pink and purple; and as soon as all the flowers were in full bloom, he held them in stasis for a moment, before sending a withering spell at the flowers and shifting the seasonal charm towards summer, sending the summer flowers into rapid growth. Summer was yellow and green, autumn was red and orange, and winter was blue and white.

Harry on the other hand, had a lot of fun in planning and performing his demonstration that combined both Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts; he conjured small birds that were all hit with different charms – Cheering Charms, Colour-changing Charms, Dancing Charms and all sorts of entertaining charms, then they were transfigured into fierce-looking ravens and eagles one by one, which charged towards Harry with the obvious intent to rip him with claws and beaks, only to be taken down or banished with Defence spells – without blood spill, of course.

Harry sipped his pumpkin juice and observed the people mingling around, he had barely managed to escape the politicians trying to talk him up, especially the Minister, and now he was hiding in the corner of the room, desperately waiting for the party to end – really, he wouldn’t mind socialising with politicians as Lord Potter-Black, but he absolutely refused to take the patronising tone they adopted when they were speaking to the _Boy_ -Who-Lived.

Seeing Neville heading towards him, he picked up another glass of pumpkin juice and thrust it into Neville’s hand, “Narrow escape there, Nev.”

“Well, we can’t all have your stealthy nature,” Neville took a big gulp out of his glass, “I’m going to faint if I need to talk to another politician about techniques to tending their gardens – seriously, I’m not into tending gardens!”

Harry patted his shoulders in consolation, “I know, I know, that’s why you are in charge of the _Silva_ defence for our operations, not gardener.”

As they continued to hide from socialising politicians, a voice suddenly startled them from behind of Harry.

“Harry Potter, I am simply delighted! I had just been wondering the other day, ‘Where is the biography of Harry Potter for which we had all been waiting?’ but seriously I would be delighted to write it myself – people are craving to know more about you, dear boy, craving! If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four- or five-hour sessions, why, we could have the books finished within months…”

Harry was stunned at the man who kept on rambling about how much gold Harry’s biography would make, and with a panicked look at Neville, the other boy whispered to him the identity of the man, “Eldred Worple, a biographer who has studied and wrote a book on Vampires.”

“…My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea –”

Harry stopped him mid-sentence, “Mr. Worple, I am not interested.”

“Why, dear boy, you would be famous – even more so!” Eldred Worple looked devastated at his plain statement, “If only you–”

“Mr. Worple, I believe Lord Potter-Black here have made it clear that he does not desire his biography to be written and published, much less by you,” A cool and cultured voice cut through Eldred Worple’s incessant words.

Eldred Worple gushed at the stranger, “Ah, such a pleasure, Lord Fortisse Noctius, such a rare incidence that you attend the Ministry’s functions!”

“I do indulge the Ministry’s invitations from time to time,” Fortisse drawled with a cool mask of indifference, “I have an issue of importance that I would like to discuss with Lord Potter-Black and Heir-Lord Longbottom.”

Understanding the clear dismissal in his tone, Eldred Worple made a hasty retreat. Smirking in a condescending manner, Fortisse commented, “That man can never understand reluctance and discretion unless he was shoved into it disgracefully.”

Facing Harry and Neville fully, he gave a light bow in recognition of Harry’s Lord position, and a slight nod towards Neville. “Greetings, Lord Potter-Black, Heir-Lord Longbottom. May Nyx and Erebus guard and guide us.”

Harry raised a brow, confused though intrigued at the reason for one of the Vampire Lords of the Stellei Clan to approach him, “Greetings, Lord Noctius. May the Mother look upon us in favour.”

“The night’s Blessings, Lord Noctius. We sleep in Nyx’s embrace, basking in Erebus’ protection,” Being an Heir-Lord, Neville was a level below the status of a full Lord – which he would be taking over from his grandmother acting as regent to the Longbottom Family soon – thus his manners of formal greeting were more respectful and specific to the offered greetings from a Lord.

Before Harry could question the muffling ward thrown up by the vampire, Fortisse had already started speaking, “We are Strangers to these lands, Speaker–” he trailed off as he looked at Neville.

“Sanguina, I am Larkspur,” Neville clarified. Sanguina was a collective codename for all the Vampires directly involved with the dealings of the Sanctuary; the other Vampires would introduce themselves as kin of whichever involved Vampire he or she were related to. And thanks to Harry’s reckless trip to the Vampire Coven with Goldfire, they were well aware of the identity of Speaker.

“–Larkspur. Sanguina sends acquiesce to joining the Sanctuary and its causes, but we would require a date to negotiate the details of the situation of the entire Coven, as well as the plans the Sanctuary has for us.”

Harry was quite surprised, although there was a tentative agreement to aid the Sanctuary for the Vampire Coven, he had not anticipated a clear agreement and offer of alliance from them so soon, he had even thought of using Severus’ influence to gain some semblance of cooperation if they have not responded after Yule.

“I see, it would be prudent to discuss the details after Yule, but before the next semester at Hogwarts commences,” Harry frowned in contemplation. “Two days after Yule. I will send you the place to meet with Gryaif before the meeting.”

Fortisse nodded, agreeing to the tentative arrangement, lowering the muffling wards at the same time. Seeing a frowning Severus Snape heading their way, he bowed his head in acknowledgement, and held out his hand towards the two teenagers, “Forgive my manners, Lord Potter, Heir-Lord Longbottom, I should have first congratulated you on your success in your studies, I have to admit that I enjoyed the demonstration immensely, and would hope to see more in the near future.”

With another nod of acknowledgement towards Severus, he stepped away gracefully, knowing full well that the Shadow Daemon was warning him away. He had no intention of imposing on a Royale’s Courting, although the jealousy seems rather entertaining – he couldn’t help but smirk, to be young and in love _, how sweet_.

“What did he want?” Severus stood close to Harry, barely touching lest they raise suspicion from the guests, but close enough to scent Harry and make sure that he wasn’t nervous, or feeling threatened.

Harry smiled, discreetly touching Severus’ hand under the sleeves of their robes, soothing Severus’ heightened instincts by gently lacing their fingers together, “Nothing to worry, Severus, it’s a message from the Strangers.”  _Strangers_ was a codeword for their allies in the Sanctuary.

Severus relaxed, reassured and surprised at the same time with Harry’s touch, “I would prefer if he did not choose to approach you without any of us present, he should have known that it is impolite to speak to a Chosen of his kin in absence of his suitor, I do not appreciate any of my Shadow or Blood kinsmen poaching.”

Neville had to turn his head away to hide his chuckle, the unmasked jealousy and possessiveness in the tone was amusing, not that he would have ever thought of Professor Snape and amusing, or even jealousy for that matter, in the same terms.

“He’s not poaching,” Harry was more heartened than amused, “He knows that I’m not available, Severus, or do you not trust me?”

“It is them that I do not trust, the Vampires have an obscene obsession with things of beauty and power, I would not put it past them to make an attempt at stealing my Chosen,” Severus gripped Harry’s fingers firmly, his voice tight and tense, as he schooled his features to appear indifferent.

Harry lowered his lashes, a soft pink spreading across his cheeks, he was really unaccustomed to praises of his appearance or ability, although Severus, Lucius and Draco seemed to have made it their mission to remedy it by showering him with as much praise and compliments as possible, together with a lot of endearments and affection – which threw whatever claims that Severus made previously about not being able to show affection openly out of the windows when his instincts started to merge with his own personality. Who knew that Shadow Daemons could be so romantic and loving to their partner by their nature?

Tugging lightly at Severus’ hand, he asked quietly, “Can we leave soon? Even if I wanted to celebrate my O.W.L.s, I’d rather do it with you, Lucius, and Draco, maybe Narcissa too, but not the Ministry,” he looked at Neville who was barely holding back a smile, “No offence, Neville, although I’d love to spend the time with you, Hermione, Ron and all…”

“I know,” Neville nodded understandingly, “But I’ll want to hitch the ride back as well, I’d hate to spend more time trying to escape them, _tending gardens_ , really! Do I look like someone whose ambition is to grow and groom flowers that will just sit there and look pretty?”

Harry had to bite back a laughter at Neville’s grumbling, he knew that while Neville’s passion lies in the greenhouse, he was more interested in rare, and mostly dangerous, plant species; even the bouquet of flowers that he used in the presentation were mostly poisonous or man-eating species, carefully controlled and suppressed during the demonstration, and some were crossbreeds of Neville’s experimentation – started in the Sanctuary’s greenhouse the few times Harry sneaked his friends out to the Manor they were using as the Sanctuary safehouse, and completed in the private section of the Hogwarts greenhouse that Professor Sprout had given to him as a reward for his exemplary results.

Severus merely raised an eyebrow at Neville’s complaints, he knew that the boy was gifted in the handling of some dangerous species if Pomona Sprout’s proud boasting was true, and was involved in some related projects with the Sanctuary. But he wasn’t too sure about the extent of involvement, although Harry had promised to have them informed with the Sanctuary’s dealings during the Yule break, when they were away from Hogwarts.

“I will need to track down the official host first,” Severus pulled his hand away, although his fingers lingered on the back of Harry’s hand as he glanced around the room.

“I’m sure they’ll let us go immediately if you give them your death glare, together with Lucius’ subtle threats,” Harry suggested playfully.

“Brat,” Severus commented affectionately, “Wait here while I terrorise the officials for an early dismissal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part where Eldred Worple appeared was adapted from canon.
> 
> And if anyone was wondering, Nyx is the Greek goddess of the night, and Erebus is the Greek goddess of darkness - I thought it was fitting for the vampires and Shadow Daemon to pay respects to them.


	19. Raging Emotions

A faint plop told Severus that the portrait guarding his chambers had admitted someone without notifying him, which narrowed down the possibilities of the late night visitor – either the Malfoys, or Harry; Narcissa usually came through the Floo network.

Sighing, he closed his book, it seems that his planned reading for the night had to be delayed now. Turning towards the entrance, his prepared sarcastic remark died on his tongue as he took in the appearance of his visitor.

While Harry’s mask of calm indifference could have fooled anyone who didn’t know him better, Severus could see that it was just a façade, one that Harry so often donned when things went really bad and he didn’t want to show how strongly it had affected him. That expression combined with the defensive posture was reason enough for Severus to be worried.

His book was immediately discarded onto the floor as he surged forward, catching Harry as he stumbled forward. “Harry? What happened?”

Harry was unusually quiet as he allowed Severus to wrap his arms around the lithe frame, leaning in against Severus’ chest, making the man grow more and more worried by the minute. “Harry? What happened?” Stroking Harry’s hair gently, he tried to get the boy to speak, “You can tell me, Harry, you know that I am here to listen to you, and to help you. Will you tell me what happened? What do you need for me to do for you?”

Harry tilted his head up to stare at Severus carefully, the emerald orbs burning as though he was assessing Severus’ intent and truthfulness in his words, before he finally seemed satisfied. Pushing him back towards the couch, Severus plopped down into his previous seat when the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch, and Harry crawled onto his lap immediately, burying his face into Severus’ robes.

“Harry?” The lack of response didn’t bode well for Severus, it reminded him too much about the night back when Harry had just came back from his Horcrux hunt with Dumbledore.

“Can you just hold me for a while?” Harry whispered, “No questions, just hold me. I can talk about it later, just… just not now.”

The weak tone made Severus’ heart wrench in worry, tightening his hold on Harry, he kissed the top of Harry’s head, murmuring soothingly, “Of course, Harry, of course.”

After ordering a hot beverage for both Harry and himself, Severus alternated between stroking Harry’s back and neck, murmuring soft reassurances into Harry’s ear, and kissing his hair and forehead, willing peacefulness into the young Elf.

He could feel Harry relax and melt into his arms, rubbing his cheek against Severus’ chest ever so frequently, until he finally sighed and turned in Severus’ lap to look up at him.

Severus brought the mug of warm hot chocolate to Harry’s lips, which Harry drank some gratefully. “Are you feeling a bit better?”

Harry nodded, while Severus was normally stern, he felt that Severus could best understand his feelings and difficulties – not that Lucius or Draco wasn’t understanding, but just that Severus could better comprehend what he was going through emotionally, and anticipate his needs better; he reckon after years of being a spy, one had to be perfectly proficient in this – and he was extremely gentle then.

“I went to talk to Professor Dumbledore just now,” Harry started speaking, “I had to know the truth, since he wasn’t telling me all the truth even as he promised not to keep me in the dark any more. I thought he might have recovered enough to have a serious talk with me by now, so I went to his office and asked him about- about the Horcruxes, and the war in general.”

Severus hummed in encouragement for Harry to go on.

“I thought I knew the prophecy, but now I realise that I hadn’t even had the slightest clue what it actually meant,” Harry snuggled closer in Severus’ lap, “‘-the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal’… I thought that only referred to the scar from the killing curse that he tried to kill me with, I thought it meant the connection that linked his emotions to my mind, that he so conveniently used to lure me into the trap for Sirius. I was wrong. I was so stupid not to have known that something was wrong about it – yes, curse scars never fade, but what kind of curse scar keeps on hurting and bleeding after fifteen years of its infliction? I should have known- I _should have_ known nothing was going to be right, it never was with me-”

“Harry,” Severus gently called his name, hoping to break him out of the incessant rambling filled with sarcastic self-loathe.

Harry stopped in his ranting and gave Severus an apologetic smile. His lips felt dry as he tried to tell Severus what he had heard from Dumbledore, the reason for which he charged Severus’ chambers immediately after leaving the Headmaster’s office – after leaving it in ruins with his outburst, of course.

“I-” He paused again and looked at Severus, the soft affection and understanding encouraging him to go on, “I’m not meant to survive Voldemort, Severus.”

Severus couldn’t help the tightening of his arms around Harry’s waist as a surge of panic ran through his heart, his voice tight and strained, “What do you mean?”

“I am a Horcrux, Severus,” Harry whispered, almost too low for Severus to hear, “Professor Dumbledore said that it wasn’t intentional, but when Voldemort tried to kill me when I was a baby, the killing curse that rebounded couldn’t kill him because of his other Horcruxes, but it split his soul… and a shard of it was embedded in-” He fingers lingered over the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead, and he smiled bitterly, “-my scar.”

Severus didn’t respond, but his embrace tightened to an extent that was almost suffocating, but Harry didn’t push him away, instead he felt oddly comforted by the furious protectiveness exuded by his suitor, and wrapped his arm loosely around the man’s shoulders burying his face into Severus’ broad chest.

Severus knew very well that all the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes had to be destroyed for him to be defeated, or he would survive yet again, biding his time to gain strength and for his loyal followers to revive him; but what do you do when the Horcrux is a _living person_? Is that even possible? “…What did Albus say to you? Harry, what did he ask you to do?”

Harry kept silent for a long while, and finally spoke softly, “I have to die to defeat Voldemort… if I died during the final battle, then Voldemort will finally be mortal again.”

“ _What_?” Has that old man finally gone mad? Severus fumed, how could someone inform another that he had to willingly die for the greater good?

“He told me that he was sorry,” Harry whispered dully, “Sorry that I had to die, sorry that my life had to be dictated by a prophecy, by a madman. To think that he had just told me before summer last year that I had to kill Voldemort, not because of the prophecy, but because I loved my parents and my heart would not let it rest until he is dead...

“I don’t understand, Severus, I really don’t. I lost my parents, I lost my childhood, and when I think that I finally have some semblance of control in life with you, and Lucius and Draco, I learn that I have to lose my life as well? What have I done for Fate to hate me so?” Harry felt miserable, “I’m so sorry, Severus, I never should have accepted the Courting! It would be too unfair for me to lead you on, only for you to find out that we never had a future in the beginning… I’m so sorry! I know I should let you go, pretend nothing ever happened between us but- but Severus, I _can’t_. I can’t stand to lose you, or Lucius, or Draco, but… I’m sorry, really, I feel so selfish…”

“Harry,” Severus cupped Harry’s face to force Harry to look into his eyes, his tone firm and fiercely determined, “Do not ever say that again, Harry. Knowing this does not and will not change anything between all of us. You are the most selfless person I have ever met, even more so than your mother; selfish would be trying to end our Courting without listening to us. We can get through this, we will find a way to remove the Horcrux and preserve your life at the same time. I will not permit you to even think of breaking off this between all of us, Harry, never.”

“Severus…” Harry felt equally joyful yet painfully sorrowful at the same time, “But I don’t want any of you to suffer from the consequences of your Courted dying on you, that would be too cruel.”

“The only cruel thing would be for you to give up so early and submit to death, without sparing a thought for us,” Severus nuzzled his hair, murmuring lowly. “You will live, we just need time to figure it out; and we do not need Albus to meddle in this,” his voice was soft, but his tone so convincing that Harry couldn’t help but believe in it.

Harry remained silent for a moment, but when he spoke again, Severus could tell that the darkening sense of defeat was gone from Harry’s voice. “I’m not going to place so much trust in Professor Dumbledore anymore, not unless he tells me the reasons behind all this. But we still need information about Voldemort from him… Just give me some more time, I promise I’ll muster up enough courage to withstand anything he says to me next time.”

Severus wanted to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, that Harry shouldn’t have to force himself to do anything just for the sake of gaining intelligence on Voldemort. But he understood what Harry meant, when they are finally freed from the Dark Mark, the only source of information about Voldemort would have to come from Dumbledore himself, or Harry’s visions.

“You know, Severus?” Switching the topic, Harry’s voice lightened a bit, shifting so that he straddled Severus’ lap, “I’ve never imagined someone for me to rely upon before. I once hoped that Aunt Petunia would hold me like she used to for Dudley when we were really young, but she never did.”

Severus frowned, rubbing soothing circles along Harry’s back, hoping that Harry would willingly tell him about his life with the Dursleys, Harry was strangely squeamish about it and always danced around the topic, and they really hadn’t had the heart to push it with all the things happening – but it seemed that Harry wasn’t intent on spilling the secrets of his family life, the focus was elsewhere this time.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on Severus’ shoulders, “When I came into the Wizarding World, I was told that I am a wizard, and the Boy-Who-Lived, that I survived Voldemort when so many others didn’t. I was so terrified when everyone tried to shake hands with me when Hagrid brought me to Diagon Alley for the first time. I didn’t know why everyone looked up to me, what was so important about my past…

“At first everything was so new and interesting, but then after a while, nothing was fun anymore. The expectations everyone had of me because I was _Harry Potter_ – I had to be magically powerful because I supposedly defeated Voldemort, I had to be smart because there was no reason for the Saviour to be less than intelligent, I had to know everything about the Wizarding World although I’ve never grew up here, and I had to be charismatic and attractive because I am the Golden Boy of Gryffindor…

“Even you expected me to know all about the basics of potions during my first lesson,” Harry added wryly.

Severus smiled softly, “Ah, I knew that would come back to bite me in the end, surely you no longer hold a grudge for that against me now?”

Harry snorted, “Of course not, I wasn’t exactly the perfect student back then either. I felt so much like a failure when I couldn’t live up to all these expectations, although being a Gryffindor seems to have given me a fair bit of leeway.”

“Because Gryffindors are brave idiots who leap before they think, and making everyone else clean up after your mess,” Severus commented, “Do not deny it, I had been doing it for you and your little friends since First Year, Harry, I should know.”

“If you weren’t such a snarky git and horrible towards us back then, we might not have thought that you were trying to get past Fluffy to steal the stone,” Harry retorted, “Poor Neville was stunned in the Common Room in our haste to stop you and protect the stone.”

Severus hummed, pleased that Harry was in a better mood now.

“But since Gryffindor’s victory that year, everyone seems to think that I will win the Cup for us every year, that I could help them solve their little problems whatever it was; and… last year- last year was the worst. Between Umbridge’s new rules, Dumbledore’s absence and McGonagall’s hands-off approach, we were in a mess. The DA became the straw for the drowning man, and since I was the one leading our secret club, they liked to turn to me for everything – Upper Years and Lower Years all the same – and wanted me to help them, save them, tell them what to do.”

“But you did not like that?” Severus moved the hand he had on Harry’s waist upwards to gently massage the nape of his neck.

Harry’s lashes fluttered at the comforting touch, “No, never. I think I can be a leader when I need to, but I don’t like it when they depend on me so much… I mean, of course it feels good when they decide that I am trustworthy and reliable, it feels good too when I can do something to help them, but- I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel right when they want me to tell them what to do and comfort them all the time.”

Severus understood what he meant. Harry was a natural leader, he had a way with his words and power that even the most eloquent speaker could not compare to, and everyone in vicinity is easily charmed and attracted to him because he was friendly, fair and powerful – most importantly, he treated everyone as important, as a friend, making them feel as if each and every one of them mattered personally and immensely to him.

But at the same time, Harry wanted to be taken care of – Harry himself would never put it this way in his own words, relying on someone else to make himself feel better was too foreign a concept to him; cuddling he could handle, but when bad things happened, his immediate reaction to is think of the best course of action available to him that could minimise the harm done to others. Not that he didn’t trust anyone else to do it, but simply because it was ingrained in his mind that he is supposed to solve the problem.

That was the largest issue that the three of them encountered after Harry accepted their Courting Intents. Harry trusted them, but he kept forgetting that they are capable and willing – even desperate – to help him. He kept trying to come up with solutions on his own, and got frustrated when he felt that his decision was inadequate. So they had to be especially attentive to any signs of distress from the young man, reminding him that he wasn’t alone at every possible chance.

Severus was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn’t realise that he had stopped rubbing his Intended’s back. Harry chuckled lowly, “I can practically hear what you are thinking now, you know.”

“Is that so?” Severus raised his brow in question, “Pray tell what you think it is now?”

“It must be something about not relying on you enough, trying to do everything myself, and making all of you exasperated at my stubborn inability to curb my hero-complex,” Harry raised his head to give Severus a playful glare, “Quite predictable, really.”

“You know so well, yet somehow we are still frustrated by it,” Severus muttered, resuming his calming motion between Harry’s shoulders.

Harry lowered his head, ashamed, “It’s- Severus, I just-”

“Shhh,” Severus quietened him, “I am not blaming you, Harry, I know it is difficult for you, it is similarly difficult for me to trust people around me; even until now, I find it hard to fully place trust in the Malfoys whom I have known for most of my life.”

Harry nodded. After some soothing silent moments, Harry turned again, settling his right cheek against Severus shoulder, confessing softly in embarrassment, “The thing that bothers me the most… is actually how helpless I’ll be when I depend on someone else. When I was living with the Dursleys, I could never defend myself against them, I hated how scared I was being at their mercy, even when I threatened Uncle Vernon with Sirius’ name, I still had no control over the situation.

“In Hogwarts, I felt a lot better, I had friends, I had a wand, I had magic, I could defend myself if I needed to. I had things that I excelled in, and wouldn’t be punished for it – for the first time in my life, I felt free, I felt confident, in control. But then Voldemort appeared. I could still feel the fear that coursed through my veins when I faced Voldemort on Quirrell’s head in my First Year, not knowing what to do, realising that in the end, I still depended on someone coming to rescue me, but nobody came. I was frantic, and wished and hoped that someone – anyone, really – would come to help me, but…

“Second Year and Third Year was no better, and then the TriWizard Tournament… and then Umbridge. I hated that I couldn’t do anything, that I had no power over myself, over whatever is going to happen – I couldn’t even defend myself verbally, that- that _toad_ punished me for it! I trust you, and I know that you will never hurt me, but even now, I feel a little unsettled because if I wouldn’t be able to do anything if you decide to turn a wand or hand against me.”

Severus pulled Harry’s head closer to his neck, “Will you feel better if you know that I am _very_ unsettled with your breath warm against my neck all throughout your little confession?”

He could feel Harry’s breathing halt for a split second, and then a small nod against his shoulder.

“You are in control even when you are with us, Harry,” Severus murmured, “Your reflexes are sharp enough to defend yourself even if any of us raise a hand against you, and your magical shields will keep you safe; most importantly, we would kill ourselves before we even contemplate hurting you.”

“I know, Severus,” Harry muttered, “Frankly, I’m not all that afraid of any of you attacking me, but… maybe you are not that forward, Severus, but I know that Lucius and Draco wants more, and I had already promised Lucius that I will try… I really am, I’m trying but… I don’t know, I see Ron and Hermione being intimate sometimes but…”

Severus now understood that main problem Harry had with the entire relationship thing. “Do you feel uncomfortable with us touching you, Harry?”

Harry’s voice was muffled against the fabric of Severus’ robes, “I like cuddling, and I like you touching my hair, or rubbing my back too, it feels nice. But kissing, and when they try to touch my thighs or something like that, I… I don’t know what to do – what I should do, what reaction I should have, or would have, and it makes me afraid, Severus. I don’t know how I would look like, or how I would feel when I am intimate with someone – I don’t think Cho was the best example – I’m terrified. Would I become compliant to whatever you say? Would I not be able to think clearly, would I even know what is going on? Is that even what you want to see? All of it scares me.”

Severus nuzzled Harry’s hair, he wasn’t the best person to teach Harry about intimacy, he could be gentle at times, but he wasn’t good at explaining it, and Shadow Daemons were rather… dominant and aggressive in terms of sexual contact. “I am sorry I cannot assuage these fears for you, Harry, it is not my forte. But remember that you are in control at all times, Harry, only you can decide how fast you want this relationship to progress. None of us will try anything against your wish, we will respect your boundaries. But perhaps, since you have promised Lucius, you could tell him your fears about this, and he can help you through it?”

Harry was silent, but Severus knew that he was thinking about it, and finally, he agreed, albeit somewhat hesitantly. Severus then moved on to ask about Umbridge, somehow Harry’s tone when speaking about her was different, and this was probably something Harry was more willing to share than the Dursleys. “What happened between Umbridge and yourself, Harry?”

Harry stiffened, apparently not liking the topic, but he answered nonetheless – he was always more truthful and open when talking about himself and his emotions with Severus. “I got angry over her announcement to the class that there was no need for us to defend ourselves, denying that Voldemort was back. She gave me detention.”

“What kind of detention?”

“…lines.”

Severus narrowed his eyes, he knew this tone from Harry, the tone that meant there was more but he didn’t want to talk about it. “What lines, Harry?”

Harry sighed, after a brief inner battle, he knew he couldn’t keep it from Severus too long anyway – to be truthful, he was a little surprised that his suitors have yet to seen the scars on the back of his hand. He extended his hand towards Severus, flashing the silvery scar.

Severus took his hand gently and looked closely, rubbing his thumb over the words, his lips in a tight line. “A Blood Quill. Did you inform anyone?”

“I did!” Harry almost jerked up in an angry snarl, and then realised who he was talking to, and slunk back down, pressing himself closely into Severus’ frame, muttering bitterly, “I did, I really did. I went to Professor McGonagall! She only told me to keep my head down, to keep myself out of trouble.”

Severus narrowed his eyes, angry that Minerva had actually ignored a student’s complaint, her own House nonetheless! He might be strict and ruthless, but he would never ignore it if a student came to him for help, especially when the person in question was clearly being prosecuted unfairly. “She did not offer _any_ help at all?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore too, but he avoided me the entire time last year.”

“What else happened, Harry? I trust the Blood Quill was not the only thing she used against you.”

Harry’s hand gripped Severus’ dark robes even tighter, “The Veritaserum you brewed for her – she tried to dose me with it in my tea, and when we were caught in her office using her floo to find Sirius, she tried to- to cast the Cruciatus Curse on me – it didn’t happen in the end since Hermione distracted her, anyway.”

Severus’ eyes darkened dangerously, if only he could get his hands on Umbridge, he will tear her apart for hurting his Harry! “Nothing like that will ever happen again, Harry. Nothing. We will not let harm come to you.”

Harry looked at him questioningly, but smiled thoughtfully at Severus’ protective look, and pecked him on the jaw, sighing softly, “My hero.”

Severus paused in his dark thoughts about what he would like to do to Umbridge, staring at Harry in bemusement, and nuzzled him affectionately. “Yes, so you will let us take care of you, and make things right for you. You will let us research more on the Horcruxes and figure a way out to remove it from your scar, without trying to break things off with us.”

Harry sighed softly again and leaned into Severus, breathing in the calming scent of sandalwood and spices, murmuring in reverence, “My hero, my _arw’tyll_ …”

* * *

Severus barked the password to the stone gargoyle, storming his way up to the Headmaster’s office; and flinging the door open without a single knock, growling fiercely, “Albus!”

Dumbledore didn’t seem a bit surprised, shifting his gaze and attention towards Severus, “Ah, Severus, my boy, I have been intending to ask you about-”

“I am not in the mood to answer your questions, nor am I willing to play your games with you, Albus,” Severus interrupted impatiently, “I am here on behalf of my Intended, Albus.”

“Ah, I see. What of it, Severus?” The Headmaster asked amiably, eyes twinkling as usual.

“I want to know what is going through your insane mind, Albus!” Severus didn’t shout, but his feral growl was far worse than that, “What were you thinking when you told Harry that he needed to die so that Voldemort can be killed? A young man who is only sixteen years in age, who have been ill-treated for most of his life, and have faced death more than once in all his school years? That you have kept him alive just so that he can die at the right moment?”

“Now, Severus, I know that this is immensely disheartening,” The twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes dissolved, “Harry is a wonderfully brilliant young man, but he is a child of prophecy, the fates have laid a path for him, a distressing one, yes, but a destiny to save the Wizarding World. You must understand, Severus, it is his duty, the only way to defeat Voldemort.”

Severus sneered at his once awe-inspiring mentor, “You know very well that prophecies are vague and imprecise, Albus, it only matters to the person interpreting it, and most prophecies are not even fulfilled because it is only one of the ways the future may lay out to be. And do not try to force this duty onto Harry as his _destiny_ , it is only because you think he is one of the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes that you are forcing him onto the road of a martyr.”

Dumbledore frowned sternly as he stood from his chair, “Harry was not supposed to inform you of that, Severus, I specifically told him how dangerous this piece of information was and-”

“Harry is well within his rights to share this information with me, or any of his suitors!” Severus cut in fiercely, the shadows in the room dancing around him wildly, “He is my Intended, and he can and should seek support from any of his suitors in emotional distress, we will share his burden and protect him! And this duty you have placed on him, this _secret_ you entrusted him with, is going to push him into madness as a sheer burden!”

He scowled menacingly at the shocked Headmaster, “Do you think I would be tempted by the Dark knowledge of the Horcruxes? Do you think I have not learnt better from what I lost to this sort of Dark Magic? If this is so dangerous, you should not have divulged this information to Harry at all! Indeed, Harry is strong, he has seen too much of the Darkness in our world, but that does not mean that he is immune to fear! He broke down after your little excursion with him to the cave, Albus! He thought he harmed you beyond recovery, he thought he killed you!

“Have you never thought how devastating the experience could be to him? You say death is merely another great adventure to you, but what about Harry? He is not mindless pawn or slave, to worship and obey your every thought and decision! You forget, Albus; in all your machinations for the _greater good_ , you forget that Harry is an actual person, a person with feelings, with fears, with his own vulnerabilities!”

Dumbledore paled visibly at all the accusations Severus flung at him, a hand stretched out to steady himself on his desk, “I never- You cannot be saying…” The defeater of Grindelwald struggled desperately to explain himself, “I know that this is unfortunate, and yes, unfathomable to entrust the fate of the entire Wizarding World into the hands of a sixteen-year-old, but you _know_ that the prophecy has been started, Severus! It cannot be ignored now! The prophecy started to apply when you overheard its content sixteen years ago…”

“Do not guilt me, Albus!” Severus snarled, the shadows extending forebodingly behind him, “I have spent all these years regretting it, I joined the Order and followed your decisions to repay for it! I sold my life to another master than the Dark Lord! I am reminded of my mistake every time I see Harry, knowing very well that I contributed to the death of his parents, yet cannot do anything to compensate for it!”

“I do not blame you, my boy, and your involvement with the prophecy need not be discussed with Harry,” Dumbledore attempted to regain his composure, “But the fact is that the prophecy has already been set in motion, and Harry has to see to its end. Voldemort’s marking of him as an equal made it that he has to die for Voldemort to be defeated.”

Severus sneered disdainfully at the Headmaster’s patronising tone, “Did you think I would have kept silent about my role in the attack on the Potters? I have Promised to be truthful to my Intended, and I would not risk him losing trust in me because I kept this a secret! My Intended has forgiven me, and saw fit to inform me of the entire prophecy that you have neglected to share with the Order!

“I will not be fooled easily, Albus! The prophecy states clearly that the Final Battle will be between Harry and the Dark Lord, you might as well have handed the Dark Lord complete victory with your plan to have Harry walk to his death! There are other ways to remove a taint from one’s soul – I assume the Dark Lord’s soul qualifies as a _taint_ – runic magic, potions, purification rituals! I know what you are doing, Albus – you fear that Harry had seen too much of the Dark, you fear that he might turn Dark, and you dare not risk that, that is why you did not even try to research other methods of destroying the Horcrux!”

Severus knew that he had struck a nerve and it was deadly accurate at the alarming rate to which the Headmaster’s face lost all colour. His tone lowered but remained as ferocious as before, “I have a Courting Claim on Harry, Albus. Harry is under the protection of the Princes and the Malfoys, _we guard our mate and family ruthlessly_.”

It took a moment for Dumbledore to find his voice, with a resigned sigh he admitted, “Yes, of course, I recognise that, Severus. I apologise for overstepping the boundaries, I will make sure that my decisions do not endanger Harry in any way. I- I admit that I was blinded by my fear of another potential Dark Lord…”

“Harry would rather die than dishonour his parent’s love and protection against the Evil,” Severus was only slightly appeased. “And you will allow Harry to stay in Malfoy Manor for the Yule break? I would rather my Intended get a chance to get away from the castle, and the Dursleys is not an option.”

The Headmaster nodded, knowing that he have made a grave mistake in the way he attempted to deal with the situation, and hoped to salvage the situation. “I…trust Harry’s safety in the territory of his Courting suitor.” He understood that insisting on Harry spending Yule at the Weasley’s would be a lost cause.

“Good,” Severus was satisfied, and continued, “Harry requested me to inform you that he will want to speak to you after being able to settle his emotions, and to remind you of the promise of open disclosure. Need I emphasise that you should not seek him out for a _talk_ before he expresses a desire to meet you willingly?”

Dumbledore shook his head, unable to bring himself to reply, especially knowing that he had failed Harry so badly that the young man could not even bear to see or talk to him – he had not meant to, but he had failed spectacularly this time, and he understood that he would be a long time – if ever – before he could gain back the trust he betrayed.

Open disclosure – fulfilling this promise will take more courage than he has now.

“I will take my leave now, Albus, but heed my words,” Severus warned lowly, “I suffer no legal consequences as a Shadow Daemon, or as Lord Prince, to eliminate any form of perceived danger to my Intended – even if it is a glorified hero of the past.”

Dumbledore could only nod weakly in reply.


	20. Promised Freedom

Harry snuggled into Draco’s side, listening idly to the bickering going on between Blaise and Pansy about Blaise’s less than impressive Transfiguration performance. Draco’s fingers carded through his hair, gently rubbing the back of Harry’s neck before sliding around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him in closer – which ended up with half of Harry’s body lying atop Draco’s.

Pansy pointed an accusing finger at them midway through her argument with Blaise, “Seriously, stop it, the both of you!”

“What?” Draco decided that he rather enjoyed the slight weight of Harry in his arms, and reclined lazily into the couch, bringing Harry down together with him.

“Just because the two of you got together doesn’t mean you should shove it into our faces!” Pansy grumbled, “Stop being so touchy-feely in front of us, it’s getting on everyone’s nerves!”

Blaise stretched languidly on the other couch, making an elaborate gesture of looking up and down the two figures more or less entwined together, “Speak for yourself, Pansy, I for one quite enjoy the show.”

Daphne giggled and added, “Me too! They’re just so cute! So… domestic.” This effectively earned an indignant glare from Draco with a complaint along the lines of “Malfoys don’t do _domestic_ ”.

Pansy made a face at them, “You know, even if you want to make it up for not being able to be all cuddly in front of the entire school, you still have the prefect room to go to. Must you really come into _our_ common room and drown us in all this sweet tooth-rotting affection?”

“Oh shush, Pansy,” Astoria interrupted, “Just because you can’t muster up enough courage to inform Theo of your affections doesn’t mean that others can’t show theirs.”

“What I never-” Pansy spluttered and stopped herself from mumbling other words. Glancing around anxiously to make sure that Theodore wasn’t in the room, she glared at the younger girl, “What in Salazar’s name ever prompted you to think that?”

Blaise grinned smugly, “Pansy darling, you should find that almost the entire House knows that you have _a thing_ for Theodore Nott, with probably the only exception of your Teddy himself.”

“ _He’s not my Te- anyone, or anything_!” Pansy was desperately trying and failing to appear insulted, her pink cheeks a tell-tale sign.

“Just tell him already, it’s not as if he doesn’t like you,” Harry commented, rubbing his cheek against Draco’s sweater in an almost cat-like manner.

Daphne raised a delicate eyebrow at that, “How do you know that, Harry?” As much as she liked Harry, she had to admit that he really wasn’t the brightest one when it came to relationships – his total ignorance of Draco’s interest was testament to that.

“He told-” Suddenly tensing, he buried his face in Draco’s shoulder embarrassedly, “No, I’m not saying anything else, I’m supposed to keep it a secret…”

Blaise had immediate interest in this, leaning towards the couple with a lecherous grin, “What did he say? Come on, I promise we won’t tell! Slytherins keep secrets well!”

“All the more reason that Theo would want his secret kept, isn’t it?” Harry smiled deceptively sweet at him, “The only thing Pansy needs to know is that her sentiments will be returned, and that’s already more than what you need to know, Blaise.”

“What does that mean?” Blaise furrowed his brows, having a feeling that there wasn’t a very kind implication beneath Harry’s words.

Daphne gave him an innocent smile, “He means you are being nosy and have a big mouth, Blaise dear. Do keep up.”

Blaise flushed and spluttered most embarrassedly, not expecting Daphne to make such a direct verbal attack on him, she was usually such a sweet and gentle one. “Not you too, Daphne!”

“Baiting Blaise is the current fashionable trend, you should be glad that Daphne joined the club,” Pansy finally recovered from her blushing, and couldn’t help joining in as well.

Blaise looked as though he wanted to argue for a moment, but decided against it in the end, “Should have known that there isn’t loyal friendship in Slytherin, poor me. Speaking about friends, why are you without your friends, Harry? I thought at least one of them would chaperone you even when you’re in Draco’s company, not to mention spending a night in Slytherin territory.”

“Ron and ’Mione’s having their own date night, and Neville’s grandmother wanted to talk to him in Professor McGonagall’s office,” Harry shrugged nonchalantly, “Besides, they trust Draco anyway.”

Draco made a choked sound hearing that, resulting in a curious look from the Gryffindor. “They do, don’t they? Or I won’t be here with you.”

Astoria looked equally curious and confused as Harry, but Pansy, Blaise and Daphne was downright amused. “Oh, this is rich! You didn’t tell him, Draco?”

“Shut up, Blaise,” Draco muttered annoyed, “It’s not as if I was the only one who got it.”

“Well, at least your father and Professor Snape apparently got theirs in private, while we got to hear all their threats towards you. Who knew Gryffindors were capable of such creative threats?” Pansy grinned, “I’ll never look at a Gryffindor the same ever again – they’re even more bloodthirsty than supposedly evil Slytherins!”

“What do you mean?” Harry pushed away Draco’s arm, struggling to sit upright, only to find himself pulled back against Draco’s chest once more – at least Draco’s was sitting up now, so he was too.

“Your friends gave me _The Talk_ ,” Draco grumbled, “The if-you-even-dare-to-hurt-Harry-physically-or-emotionally-you-will-die-a-slow-and-painful-death talk every suitor has to face.”

“They didn’t.” Harry deadpanned.

“Oh they did,” Pansy sounded cheerful, “I particularly enjoyed the part where Granger threatened to make Draco impotent and unable to even contemplate any sexual thoughts without feeling the pain of castration all over again.”

Blaise frowned and thought seriously, “I personally thought that Weasley’s idea of breaking all of Draco’s bones one by one while he was kept awake and conscious was quite exemplary.”

Daphne happily ignored Draco’s paling face and continued, “Not to mention Longbottom’s ingenious concept of strangling him with the _Catenam Vines_ while the _Manducair_ feeds on his fingers and toes was simply astounding. You have really good friends, Harry, it makes us almost envious.”

Harry’s expression was torn between amusement and horror, “They really said that?”

“Definitely,” Pansy grinned, “Although that was only part of it. Would you like us to recite the whole thing to you?”

Harry’s absolute horror must have shown on his face as the other four Slytherins were caught in wild laughter, while Draco gave a pitiful moan and simply buried his nose into the crook of Harry’s neck, breathing in the sweet and earthy scent that was Harry.

“I’m sure they didn’t mean that seriously,” Harry chose to ignore Pansy and Blaise who were shaking their heads furiously and solemnly, “Well, at least I won’t let them – I’m rather fond of you right now and wouldn’t want to see you all cold and dead.”

“As if I would ever do anything to hurt you,” Draco mumbled petulantly, for Merlin’s sake, a Veela would never hurt its Chosen, the only thing the Chosen might fear was being suffocated by the protectiveness and affection from their Veela – but most Veela mates find it endearing.

Harry rubbed his cheek against the top of Draco’s blonde head affectionately, before turning back to the Slytherins with a sceptical look, “So should I anticipate a similar talk from you guys as well?”

“Of course not,” Pansy waved her hand dismissively, “If anything, we should warn Draco that if he isn’t doing a good job of wooing you, there are many others waiting to romance you away. You’re entirely too soft to actually hurt Draco or anyone else you think important to you, too protective and too sweet to have ulterior motives or betray them. Seriously, Harry Potter dating Draco Malfoy for his name or money? That must be the joke of the century.”

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Harry conceded with a mischievous grin, “Of course I’m not dating Draco for his name or money, I’m dating him for his sexy body and silver tongue, what else!”

“I knew you only wanted me for my looks,” Draco whined, playing along, “Oh well, at least I’m devilishly handsome enough to catch your attention with my words.”

“If the body is what you’re after, you’re definitely depriving yourself being with Draco, Harry,” Blaise winked, “I assure you that I am a much better candidate, and I can sweet talk too!”

Draco glared half-heartedly at him, but his hands tightened minutely around Harry’s shoulders, “Sod off, Blaise, you know you’re severely lacking in the muscles department, your belly is all the evidence needed.”

Blaise raised his hands in surrender to make sure the Veela didn’t take his words as a challenge on his claim, “I don’t have a belly, stop injuring my reputation! I still need it to get a girl, you know!”

Pansy rolled her eyes, “As if you even had a reputation in the first place…”

As the two of them continued bickering with the Greengrass sisters as enthusiastic spectators, Harry tilted his head upwards to look at Draco, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on his lips. The slight tension in Draco’s shoulders was gone, and Harry laid his head on Draco’s chest, whispering to him, “I won’t trade this for anything, Draco. I like it the way it is between us, and with Severus and Lucius as well.”

“I know,” Draco agreed easily, pleased with the way Harry relaxed against him, bending downwards peppering light kisses over his ebony locks. _Not that he will let it go without a fight either._

* * *

 

Lucius tried to convince himself that he wasn’t nervous. No, definitely not. He was not nervous, not intimidated, and most certainly not trembling! Fine, maybe he was, but that was because of the anticipation, not the nerves.

It was the night of the last school day before the Yule break, and here they were preparing for the ritual that Harry claimed was able to remove the Dark Mark from their arms, and finally redeem their long-lost freedom.

The sweet promise of freedom – from the Dark Lord, from his misguided decisions; and most importantly, the freedom to Court his mate as he pleased, to Claim his Chosen so that everyone else would know that Harry was taken, and to protect him. Just the thought of making a declaration of Claim made him feel somewhat giddy in the inside, his inner Veela simply brimming in pleasure of finally being released from its confinement in the very _very_ close future.

On the other hand, part of him is terribly worried. What would happen if the ritual failed – not that he didn’t have confidence in Harry, but rather that no one could predict the exact nature of the Dark Mark tethering the Death Eaters to the Dark Lord? Neither did Harry see fit to inform them of precisely what he was intending to do during the ritual. That elusive little lion had evaded the question and distracted them every time they tried to get some information out of him.

A hand landed on his shoulder with a familiar voice, “We trust him, Lucius. There is no need to worry.”

Sighing heavily, he nodded, “Yes, Severus, we do trust him. However, I would prefer more known information regarding the nature and effects of the bond before allowing Harry to attempt the ritual.”

The solemn look in Severus’ eyes told him that the man shared the same thoughts, “Regardless, Harry is confident it will work, even if his methods tend to be far too reckless for my tastes.”

Narcissa interrupted them, “You can berate Harry for his recklessness as you always do later, Severus. I believe Harry is ready to start the ritual now, and undoubtedly he would like a cuddle session with the three of you later.”

Now that Harry was growing accustomed to their company, he had daily cuddles and snuggles with them. Apparently Harry found their body warmth and firm hold soothing and as long as they kept their hands from wandering into more intimate places, he was perfectly content to curl up in their laps until curfew was up.

They walked towards Harry, who gave them a fond look. Harry was standing in the middle of the room, while his friends and Narcissa took up the four corners of the room, facing inwards. Draco was hovering by the door, looking anxiously at them, just as clueless as they are.

Severus pulled out the two vials of potion from his robe pocket, placing it on the table beside Harry. As Lucius and Severus positioned themselves in front of Harry, the young man started explaining briefly.

“Narcissa and Neville will serve as witness, they cannot interfere with the proceedings but their presence will appeal to the Mother. If something goes wrong, they can break the ritual by disrupting the magical flow in the room. Ron and Hermione will be my anchors, if I lose myself in the midst, they will know what to do. Draco is the only one who is not directly participating, so he will need to seek help in case anything goes awry here.”

Draco was obvious unhappy with his role if the deep scowl on his face was anything to go by. Severus, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes. “How likely is the possibility of an error or problem?”

Harry just smiled sweetly at them, choosing not to grace the question with an answer.

Lucius wanted to press on with the questioning, but he knew too well that Harry would just skip around it until they gave up. Instead, he relaxed his posture, “Then what are we supposed to do, Harry?”

“I will ask for the guidance of the Mother first, and if she chooses to bless us and oversee the ritual, I will answer to her,” Harry frowned, “You might not be able to understand what we speak, I’m not sure about that part, but when it is done, I will ask you to apply the potion to the Dark Mark. Everything else will just flow from then on.”

None of them were actually satisfied with the brevity of Harry’s explanation – well, except for his friends, who seem to have some inkling of what he had planned – but had to grudgingly accept that it was about as much as Harry was willing to share. They could easily guess that they wouldn’t be all that agreeable with whatever Harry is intending to do, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t grill Harry about it later. For the time being, they will hope for the best, and wish that Harry’s luck held; they would never forgive themselves if their Chosen was to come to harm in this.

Visibly pleased with their acceptance, Harry nodded for Lucius and Severus to pull back their sleeves, baring their forearm. They were startled when Harry started speaking a language that was far from English or Latin, in fact, they were certain it wasn’t any of the known languages. There was an inherent solemnity in the tone, a musical flow to its sounds, an ancient tongue that sounded from the far realm.

On the other end of the room, Narcissa noted that Longbottom looked calm, almost understanding as Harry continued speaking, but was overcome by the sudden surge of magic in the room to think further on the issue.

 _{Loving Mother, I beg your presence. Hear my voice, heed my call – Your Childe seeks your blessings,}_ Harry chanted, head dipped in sincere deference. _{Mighty Mother, I ask for your approval, for your Grace. May your presence be known to all your Children, may your power purge our souls, and your magic run through our veins. I ask you, Mother, to bear witness for our Intentions.}_

A strong burst of magic encompassed the room, a solid pressure weighing on all of them, heavy yet gentle. They could almost hear the humming magic in the air, a gust of wind circling the room and its occupants, probing but not intrusive. That was when they heard – no, rather, they _felt_ – a question from the centre of power, a voice penetrating their minds and souls, a warm authoritative tone of the Ancient Gods.

**_What are your Intentions?_ **

Harry replied, _{A repentance, Your Grace. For a youthful mistake, for misguided actions, for innocent deaths and sufferings. And a plead for forgiveness, and for freedom.}_

Despite not understanding Harry’s response to the question, Severus and Lucius immediately felt a strong press against their mental shields, a booming voice echoing through their minds.

**_Do you repent?_ **

Harry did not reply, only giving them an imploring stare. Somehow, they understood the plea in Harry’s eyes to lower their defences and submit to the judgement of Mother Magic.

Severus bowed his head and lowered his occlumency shields, his emotions pouring out wildly with his memories – The desire for acknowledgement when he was first Marked. The wavering decision as he was sent on his first mission. The fear upon the first punishment he received from the Dark Lord. The horror at learning of the death of the Potters. The absolute determination when he swore loyalty to the Order and vowed to protect Lily’s child.

He could feel the powerful presence sifting through his mind, taking in the whirlwind of emotions. He had thought the presence only wanted to witness his memories regarding his Death Eater status and loyalty, but it lingered, and seemed to press upon another corner of his well-kept emotions, and he was caught in another flurry of images.

The shock at first seeing Harry in person back in First Year. The pressing need to protect him from the dangers in the school. The soft affection as he watched Harry work on their experimental potion. The fierce love and protectiveness when he witnessed Harry’s emotional breakdown. Even the slight lust that he struggled to suppress when Harry snuggled against him in his arms.

**_You have repented, and are now forgiven. Treat my Electa well, or I will seek vengeance, Child._ **

He nodded briefly, the Mother’s warning deeply acknowledged.

Lucius carefully lowered his gaze as he felt the presence gliding through his memories – His façade of a strong front when his father forced him to take the Mark. The petrifying terror at his first raid. The pain when the Dark Lord first punished him. The numbness as he received more and more punishments when the Dark Lord was agitated. The fear of bringing harm to Narcissa and Draco. The loyalty to Harry and his operations in the Sanctuary.

The insistent presence pressed further into his more intimate emotions, and he forced himself to relax as he locked gaze with Harry’s emerald orbs.

More memories were released – His frustration and confusion at his confrontation with Harry in Draco’s Second Year. The amazement at the young man’s skills in Defence. The admiration at the way which Harry dealt with their past. The budding fondness as he looked at the Harry sprawled all over the cushions in his quarters. The blooming affection when Harry revealed the secrets of the Sanctuary. The arousing desire as Harry’s breath caressed his neck and collarbone during their cuddling. The sweet contentment when Harry kissed him on the lips for the first time.

The presence seemed satisfied and pleased. **_You have repented, and are now forgiven. Teach my Electa to enjoy the comfort of intimacy, but be careful with him, Child._**

Harry didn’t know what Mother Magic said to them, but the Mother had already turned Her attention back to him.

**_My Beloved Childe, they are truly repentant, and I have forgiven their mistakes. Your plea of approval is granted, I will stay for witness and your protection._ **

_{Thank you, Almighty Mother. Your approval grants me strength and fortitude.}_ Harry had hoped that the Mother would agree, but wasn’t all that confident at first.

He gestured for both Lucius and Severus to apply the potion to their forearms, covering the Dark Mark entirely with the thick fluid. The felt their skin stinging a little as the potion came into effect, making the Dark mark blurry with different shades of colour swirling over its surface.

Harry stretched out both hands to hold their wrists, leaning forward to hiss at the Mark. Both Lucius and Severus were mesmerised by the translucent snake spirit undulating out of the Mark, lured out by the soft hisses towards Harry. They barely contained a cry of outrage when the rearing snake heads lunged down and sank their fangs into Harry’s wrists, their instinctual protectiveness reined in only at the last moments – surely Harry wouldn’t have done something to hurt himself?

All other thoughts were eliminated when they saw what happened next. The spirits slowly materialised, starting from the part where their fangs were still firmly embedded in Harry’s wrists, the scales taking solid colour as it extended downwards. Finally the snake tails slithered out of the Dark Mark and the fangs released its hold, winding up along the length of Harry’s arms and curling around his neck.

On Harry’s shoulders and neck now laid two snakes – a black mamba from Severus’ Dark Mark, and a golden cobra from Lucius’.

Everyone in the room was glad to find that there was a lack of blood or wounds on Harry’s wrists, to which Severus and Lucius made to check thoroughly before releasing their grip on his hand and allowing him to continue.

Tapping his wand on both Dark Marks, Harry chanted something too low for them to catch in words, waving his wand in intricate patterns over their forearms. His eyes were shut tightly as his chanting continued, brows furrowing in deep concentration, and his wand movements grew erratic.

They didn’t dare make a sound for fear of disturbing Harry, but Lucius found it painstakingly difficult to curb the desire to pull him into a tight embrace, removing all sources of his distress. Beads of sweat gathered on the edges of Harry’s brow and trickled down his face as it went on; Severus finding the silent wait almost suffocating.

A sudden flinch from Harry caught everyone’s attention. Hermione was the first to react – casting a magical link from herself to Harry, murmuring softly as she seemed to project something over the temporary link she conjured; one that Ron quickly followed. Narcissa and Draco could feel the magical pressure around them lightened, only to re-emerge and concentrate around the three in the middle of the room.

Harry’s continuous chanting stopped abruptly while his teeth clenched painfully – an expression most of them recognised as the one he often sported when Voldemort assaulted his mind. Lucius and Severus glanced around wildly, not knowing what to do to alleviate Harry’s stress – both Ron and Hermione were too engrossed with whatever they were responsible of to respond, while Narcissa and Draco were equally clueless. Neville simply shook his head, his firm gaze telling them to keep calm and trust Harry.

After what seemed like a lifetime of agonising wait, Harry’s expression became more relaxed and his chanting resumed. This time, they could see the strands of magic in the Dark Mark separating. Strands of murky green and black, as well as thin threads of red were extricated from the Dark Mark, pulled taut, and both Severus and Lucius could almost feel a building pressure in their arms – a burning sensation spreading from the Mark on their forearms to their core – and with a sudden rush of a gold spark from Harry’s wandtip into the strands of magic, they snapped.

It felt like an almost instant relief to both of them, an invisible burden lifted, and they could feel their magic unfurl in delight deep within their magical core.

“It’s done.”

Harry was panting lightly after what apparently was an exertion of mental will and magical power, and Lucius couldn’t help but bring him close in his arms, nuzzling the top of Harry’s head and sniffing his scent to make sure he is indeed safe and unharmed. Severus placed a hand on Harry’s nape, gently stroking along the side of his neck, relieved that it was over.

Harry turned his head upwards to look at them, about to say something when he was distracted by the sudden concentrated presence of pure magic beside him. Tilting his head in what looked like a listening manner, he nodded and muttered against Lucius’ chest, “The Mother wishes to speak to me.”

After several inquiries to make sure that Harry is fine and will not collapse within the first few moments of them letting go, the rest of them cleared the room reluctantly –with the two snakes slithering up Lucius’ and Severus’ shoulders as they went–, reassuring him repeatedly that they will remain in the corridor to wait for him.

Harry watched them leave a little unwillingly, the only thing he wanted now was to snuggle into the arms of his suitors, soaking up the comfort and affection they offered, and fall into a peaceful slumber in their presence. Turning back to the luminous figure that just appeared before him, he bowed his head low in respect.

_{Loving Mother, I am listening.}_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Electa refers to favourite (child).


	21. Yule Preparations

Lucius looked at the young Elf settled comfortably on his lap a little incredulously. Did he hear wrong? Or did Harry really just admitted to him that he didn't dare to take their relationship further simply because he didn't know what to do and how to react? His son hadn't needed the talk that every parent dreaded giving their teenage children since he seemed to have figured it out all by himself – and if the rumours circulating in the dungeons at Hogwarts were true, he probably experimented quite a bit too.

Harry lowered his head in embarassment. He told Lucius about his concerns just as Severus had told him to, but the following silence was simply unnerving.

Just as Harry was about to try and escape from the strange silence, Lucius leaned forward and buried his face against Harry's shoulders. Feeling a tickling sensation from where Lucius' nose was pressing against his skin, Harry was baffled. "Lucius?" Is the man  _laughing_  at him?

"Oh, Harry," Lucius sighed, "You are remarkably thick, love."

Harry frowned. Was that supposed to be a compliment at all? "What do you mean?"

"I am sure Draco told you before that Veela are generally jealous creatures," Lucius pulled his Chosen closer in against his chest, "What he did not tell you –or rather, what he might not be so clear on– is when a Veela develops an absolute possessiveness over their Chosen. We can be more demanding than a Shadow Daemon at times, and one of which is when the Chosen is virtually untouched by another.

"To know that you have never been so intimate with anyone else, to know that you are allowing me –us– to teach you about the pleasure that intimacy can bring… you are making my Veela instincts more than rampant right now, love. I will be more than just touchy and feely, Harry, after the declaration, I will probably have trouble keeping my hands off you at all."

Harry blushed beautifully, tilting his head back to rest against Lucius chest as his suitor sat back up and looked down at him warmly.

"Harry, will you give me the honour?"

Harry stared at him imploringly for a long moment, and finally –slowly– relaxed his entire body. Closing his eyes, he nodded.

Knowing that Harry probably felt more comfortable with his eyes closed, Lucius whispered in his ears, "Relax, love, I will not do anything you think you cannot handle right now. If you think I am pushing your boundaries too far, tell me and I will stop. Do not fear, I am sure I will appreciate any reactions or sounds you make."

Leaning back against the back of the sofa, he turned Harry around so that Harry was straddling his lap. Harry's eyes opened and widened in surprise, but relaxed and closed once more after seeing the tenderness in Lucius' eyes.

Placing his hands on Harry's neck and shoulders, he gently rubbed circles on his back, murmuring softly, "Do not think too much about this, love. Treat it just like a massage, do you like it?"

His smile widened when he received a slow nod in response. His hands went further down Harry's back slowly, moving in soothing motions to keep Harry relaxed. Fingers lingering lovingly over the curve of Harry's back just above his arse, he continued talking in a soft voice, directly whispered into Harry's ear. "It is not that strange, is it? There is nothing to be afraid of. How do you feel?"

Harry shivered when Lucius' fingers ghosted across his hips and danced up his arms, one of his hands hovering over Harry's collarbone. "…warm, and a little weird, but a nice kind of weird, I think."

A soft laugh answered his description. Warm hands caressed down his back once more, one hand staying at his lower back, while the other slid down to his right thigh. The slight warm pressure against his back was comforting enough to erase any uncertainties he had towards the hand resting on his thigh, which was almost touching his knee.

"Fine?" Lucius wanted to make sure before he pressed on.

Harry hummed in agreement. To be truthful, he was still a little apprehensive about it, but Lucius' touches so far felt better than he had thought, and Lucius seemed to enjoy it quite a little as well.

Lucius' hand glided over Harry's thigh and knee, drawing wide large circles in slow motions; his touch too light to be uncomfortable, but firm enough for Harry to feel the clear warm weight moving over the fabric of his pants. Watching Harry's reactions carefully, he slid his hand inwards onto Harry's inner thigh. Rubbing his thumb in small circles, he moved his hands slowly upwards, but stopped midway when he felt Harry shivering slightly.

"Shhh, I will not move up any further. Are you fine with this?" Lucius comforted him, he didn't want to push too far.

"Mmhmm," Harry buried his face further into Lucius' chest, too embarrassed by his own reaction to reply.

Lucius gave a soft laugh before trailing his hands back and forth on Harry's thigh and lower back, long fingers sliding beneath Harry's shirt and caressing the soft skin, chuckling gently into his Chosen's ears, "My, you are really sensitive, love."

Harry clutched the fabric of Lucius' shirt tightly, fighting back the shudder and goosebumps stemming from Lucius' caress. He couldn't tell if he liked being touched like this or not, but he did feel… well, protected and cherished, and something he has never felt before – it feels good, but he could feel himself getting a little bit feverish as well, and he wasn't too sure whether that is a good thing or not.

Lucius finally stopped those soft touches when he heard a low, muffled moan coming from Harry. It was one thing to get Harry to accept and grow used to these caresses, but it was another thing to overdo it and make it uncomfortable for both of them – he was already feeling the beginnings of an arousal.

"Fine, Harry?"

He cupped Harry's face gently and turned it up to look at him, regretting it almost as soon as he saw Harry's face. The delightful pinkish sheen blossomed across Harry's cheeks and down his neck, his eyes slightly dazed with his lips apart – an incredibly delectable scene in Lucius' eyes.

He brushed his fingertips over Harry's cheek, bending down so that their faces were mere inches away, and asked, "Harry… may I kiss you?"

Harry's eyelashes fluttered as he felt Lucius' warm breath against his nose, and then slowly, he nodded his head.

Lucius was gentle – that was all Harry could think of when their lips touched. He could feel the warm pressure against his lips, the swipe of Lucius' tongue against his lips, and then against his teeth and tongue.

Lucius was delighted when Harry responded timidly, and his kiss grew even gentler and deeper, coaxing Harry's tongue to dance with his.

When he finally released Harry, the young Elf was too dazed to say anything at all. Lucius pulled him closer into an embrace and chuckled in pure satisfaction, "Enjoyed it, love?"

Harry murmured something incoherent and nuzzled his face onto Lucius' shoulders, refusing to give Lucius a clear reply – although Lucius could see the blush extending over the tip of his ears.

The obvious answer led to a pleased, husky growl coming from the back of Lucius' throat, his Veela more than satisfied at teaching and receiving Harry's first kiss – much more than the gentle press of lips he got before the Ministry Party. He murmured softly as he placed gentle kisses on Harry's hair, "You are absolutely adorable, love…"

" _Nghariyf_ …"

"What?" Lucius didn't quite catch the word coming from Harry, but as he took a closer look, he released a muffled laugh. His Chosen had apparently fallen asleep on him – was that kiss too demanding?

* * *

Harry once dreaded the moment he had to reveal to his pseudo-godfather the fact that he is being Courted by three men, three Slytherins in fact, and that two of them were Death Eaters – at least on the surface they were. Although Remus had been very protective of him before, after Sirius' death and Harry's effort in building the Sanctuary, he became a somewhat overbearing wolf hovering over its lone cub. That was why he'd storm Hogwarts when Harry failed to send his letters on time – of course, Harry never asked how the ex-Marauder went in and out of the castle without even Dumbledore noticing.

So when Remus showed up outside the Manor with a ceremonial Yule log in hand as a gift, Harry's smile couldn't help but falter a little.

Well, he did mentally prepare himself for this when he wrote the letter to inform Remus that he was spending the Yule holidays at Malfoy Manor, but… Remus probably guessed that the Malfoys and Severus were initiated into the Sanctuary, though he probably didn't know that three of the Slytherins were Courting Harry. He hadn't had a chance to tell Remus about it before, it didn't feel right informing him over letters, and now… well.

"Cub, where's my hug?" Remus raised a brow, his arms outstretched waiting for Harry to snap out of his thoughts.

Casting his worried aside and grinning wildly, Harry gave Remus a tight hug. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too, cub," Remus smiled gently. Harry is the only family he had left ever since Sirius fell through the Veil.

"Really, Harry, you should invite our guest into the manor before you start talking about how much you have missed him," Narcissa's voice came from behind as her hand settled on his shoulder. "Welcome, Mr. Lupin, please do come in."

"Lady Narcissa Black," Remus gave a slight nod in acknowledgement of her greeting.

Following Narcissa into the room, the sight of Lucius, Severus and Draco waiting expectantly for them – and the noticeable straightening of postures as Remus turned his gaze towards them – prompted him to give his godson a suspicious look. "Am I missing something here?"

Harry couldn't stop feeling a little guilty over the situation, and Remus –being observant as ever– caught that expression accurately, "Cub?"

"Um," Harry chanced a glance at his three suitors, and blurted out in one breath nervously, "LuciusSeverusandDracosentmeCourtingintentionsandIagreedsotheyhavebeenCourtingmeforawhilenow!"

Remus gave Harry a gentle smile, but the look in his eyes when he gazed at the three Slytherins was simply freezing. "I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that, cub. Do you mind repeating that again?"

Harry just gave him a blank look, knowing fully well that the werewolf heard everything he said, and clearly too.

Remus stared hard at him for a while, and sighed, turning his full attention to the three men who suddenly appeared to be uneasy. "Cub, I think I might need a private moment with them. Do you mind leaving for a while?"

Before Harry could try to change his mind, Narcissa had already made the decision for him. "Harry darling, I have prepared all the materials you wanted for the Yule gifts, perhaps we should start sorting so that the packages arrive on time? Come along, dear, I am sure the House elves have prepared a nice cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon for you as well."

As Narcissa dragged him out of the room, he only caught Remus' first sentence just as the door was closing.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Perhaps one of you would like to enlighten me on what my cub just said about  _Courting intentions_?"

He couldn't do anything but pray for the safety of his three suitors – but he was sure Remus wouldn't be too harsh on them, right? At least, he hoped.

It was two hours gone before he saw Remus appear at the door of the room where he was sorting the Yule celebration gifts for every section of the Sanctuary with Narcissa.

Correctly interpreting Harry's worried look, Remus shook his head, "Don't worry, cub, I didn't kill them. Your suitors are healthy and alive. I just… wanted to share my thoughts on this issue with them."

Automatically translating that to "I just wanted to threaten them not to hurt my cub or I will tear them limb from limb and toss them to rogue wolves and Merlin knows what else", Harry didn't know whether he should be happy for Remus' obvious concern for him, or worry for the Slytherins' mental well-being. "Okay…?"

"But are you sure about this, cub?" Remus' concern was apparent in his eyes. Pulling Harry into a tight embrace, he muttered softly, "You are still so young, and with the upcoming war… "

"I am very sure about this, Moony," Harry reaffirmed. He relaxed in the familiar embrace, "I wasn't too sure about it at first, but after talking to Godric and Salazar, I decided to give it a try; but now I really appreciate what I have with them. There're still a lot of things I have to deal with, but they will help me through it."

Remus was silent for a long while, eventually he sighed and agreed. "As long as you are sure about this, cub."

He wasn't worried about the sincerity of the three Slytherins, he was fairly convinced of the genuine love and affection they hold for his cub (that much was shown in the two hours he had with them). He was just a little apprehensive that Harry might be too young for this, he still had long years ahead and who knew what events might occur during then? And of course the fact that the timing was all wrong – what if one of them (or worse, all of them) died in the war that was fast approaching?

"So you're fine with this?" Harry asked.

Remus nodded, "As long as they hold true to their Promises, I don't have anything against it – they have proven their attitude towards the war since they swore secrecy to the Sanctuary. However, I would have preferred if they consulted me before they sent their Courting Intentions – it is courtesy to approach the acting guardian of the Intended before a Courting decision. Imagine what would happen if Sirius was still here…"

Although Harry was still upset about Sirius' death, he felt a lot better after talking to Godric and Salazar the whole while he was in Hogwarts this year – he knew it was partially Sirius' rashness that led to his demise as well.

"He would go mad over this," Harry joked, "And he'd tear the house down."

"I imagine he would be yelling much worse than Mrs. Black's portrait in Grimmauld Place."

Watching Harry resume his packing of Yule celebration items, and realising that Narcissa had silently slipped out of the room without any of them noticing, Remus offered to help. "Seeing that I sort of drove your help away, I guess I am going to be your temporary helper for a while. What should I do?"

"I haven't packed the basket for our furry friends yet, you can start with that," Harry pointed a finger to one of the larger baskets in the room, "Just line the basket with evergreen boughs and floured wheat stalks, and fill it with the apples and oranges over there. The Holly and Ivy are in the tray there, just lay a sprig or two on the top of the apples and oranges. Though the logs aren't ready yet, Narcissa probably went to find the coloured candles, somehow it got lost when the House elves moved the things here."

Remus started packing at Harry's instructions, "How are you sending it off? Surely not your falcons?"

"Ragnok said that he'll send some goblins over to pick it up later and deliver it to the rest of the Sanctuary," Harry replied absentmindedly, tying a red and gold bow on the handle of the basket. Looking around, he groaned irritably.

Lucius appeared at the doorway before Remus could ask, "Need anything else, Harry?"

"The incense and herbs, Lucius!" Harry pushed around the materials spread out on the floor, "I can't find it!"

"Severus has the herbs, Draco is helping him sort it into separate bundles now. I am sure I saw the boxes of incense yesterday, give me a moment," Lucius said as he walked away from the door, intent on hunting down the House elves who kept the incense away – quite a tough task since the House elves were running around the manor putting Yule decorations into place.

Remus took a glance at Harry's frantic packing motions and blinked uncertainly, "Are you sure we can get everything packed in time, cub?"

"We have to; Lucius and the others will be here once they find all the stuff we need as well," Harry tied another perfectly symmetrical bow on another basket, "And I think I asked for someone else to help…"

"Please don't tell me this is the reason I'm invited early instead of Christmas dinner tomorrow?" Neville's dismayed voice came from the doorway.

"Right on time, Nev!" Harry gave him a splendid smile, "Just when we need you!"

Neville sat down and joined in with the packing after greeting Remus, "I'm feeling very jealous of Ron and Hermione right now."

"Ron has to help Mrs. Weasley at home and Hermione's with her parents in Muggle London," Harry raised a brow, "Or maybe you'd prefer to de-gnome the garden with Ron?"

Neville's face paled dramatically, "No thanks, I'd choose this over dealing with those ferocious things! I hate it when they appear in my garden and yard! They keep spoiling my experiments which makes my Gran real angry…"

"Actually I'm a little surprised your grandmother agreed for you to come here," Harry admitted.

"Gran passed the Lord title to me just yesterday, she said that I had to make my own decisions now," Neville shrugged his shoulders, "I told her that I accepted the Malfoys' invitation and she didn't say anything. To be truthful, I thought she even looked quite happy about it."

Harry nodded. Augusta Longbottom was a great woman with a strong family pride, and he had this feeling that she has a clear idea of how the situation between the Light and Dark stands now. Of course, the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, and the fact that Neville received the top score in Herbology O.W.L.s seemed to have increased her confidence in Neville a lot.

"But somehow I'm having a nagging feeling that Gran seems to know about the Strangers and us," Neville lined the apples and oranges neatly as he muttered, "She hinted to me that I made a good choice and she will support me all the way… Do you know she even winked at me and promised to keep the secret that would make my parents proud?"

Quickly curbing his laughter when Neville levelled a glare at him, Harry explained, "Your grandmother must have gone to Gringotts before she decided for you to take on the full Lordship title, haven't she? The Goblins probably mentioned something alike to her; Ragnok has been hogging me about not spreading the influence of the Sanctuary enough."

Ragnok has been complaining non-stop about their small circle of network for a while now, he wouldn't be too surprised if Ragnok has been sending feelers out to test the responses of potential supporters and allies. Moreover, the Goblins were a paranoid lot of creatures, if they chose to share hints about the Sanctuary with someone, that person must have earned their trust and at least a meagre amount of respect – as Ragnok would put it.

Neville visibly relaxed, "I was still wondering whether I gave anything away in my letters or something." The Sanctuary was still too young to be ousted as a third party to the war, not to mention how the Wizarding World might think of them due to the involvement of magical creatures – not as slaves or servants, but as allies.

Harry nodded, his main concern about the Sanctuary now was the lack of a strong leadership figure. Voldemort was undeniably the king and commander of the Dark side, Dumbledore the backbone and soul of the Light side.

He didn't have enough public recognition to compete against their influence on the people – his status as the Boy-Who-Lived and the Saviour was still merely young and naïve relative to theirs, he wouldn't expect others to take too kindly to him if he announced that he was going to lead a third side to the war, instead of supporting Dumbledore. Given his experience with people accusing him of being the Heir of Slytherin (not that it was wrong, though) in Second Year, and of being a liar last year – he didn't want to try his luck.

Not to mention that he needed more information on Voldemort, although he really wasn't looking forward to meeting with the Headmaster any time now.

Seeing that Remus had moved to the other side of the room to allow them a little more privacy – even though Remus was one of the first few that Harry recruited into the Sanctuary, his main duty was to liaise between them and the werewolves. He couldn't meet Harry in person too often, so he wasn't involved in many of the main decisions – Harry nudged Neville gently, "Were you Chosen?"

Neville raised a brow but did not answer, shoving the basket of fruits into Harry's lap instead.

"You are," It wasn't a question, merely a confirmation.

"Don't you already know? You don't look surprised," Neville replied dryly, "You probably knew it before I even Inherited."

Harry grinned. He did have an inkling of Neville being one of the God's Choices when they were in the ritual preparing to remove Lucius and Severus' Dark Mark, but he wasn't too sure just then – of course, his suspicions was confirmed when Mother Magic spoke to him after the ritual.

Wizarding traditions were mainly derived from the Celtic divinities, and although known by few, the Ancient Gods would, once in a while, choose a witch or wizard from their preferred bloodline to patronise, allowing them to borrow some of their divine power. At the same time, the Gods would have a direct link to the mortal world, where their Choices would defend their honour and carry out their responsibilities to maintain the balance and order of the Wizarding World – even if the number of actual interaction between the Gods and their Choices could be as few as only once in the entirety of their lifetime. Of course, some Gods take it very seriously and check on their Choices every once in a while. These witches or wizards are better known as God's Choices, for those who have at least heard of them.

Mother Magic was the overruling power over even the Ancient Gods, but She does not pick a Choice. Every magical child is her Child, but she would occasionally have a favoured child – and Harry is her favourite Childe, her  _Electa_. Despite her status, she couldn't interfere directly with the Wizarding World, she can only bestow gifts and advice to her Magical Children, and they choose to carry out her will. That was the situation with Harry's scar, she couldn't remove it for Harry but she did advise him of the possible sources he should seek to find a suitable purification ritual.

One of the reasons that Harry chose to work with the Goblins and establish the Sanctuary was also that it was Mother Magic's wish – to destroy the warring situation at hand, and re-establish a new order in the Wizarding World.

"I did think that you had the qualities for being one of God's Choices, but…" Harry quirked a brow, "I would never have expected Morrigan."

"Neither did I," Neville shrugged. He was in a complete shock when he entered the Inheritance ritual under Ragnok's assistance; he could probably accept it easier if it was Dian Cecht or Brigid, but when he saw Morrigan with Badb following her, his mind went absolutely blank.

In actual fact, he couldn't really remember what happened after that, only that he had a rather unexplainable feeling of connectedness to the Unknown. And of course, the visits from Morrigan in his dreams.

Harry studied him for a moment but didn't comment further. He thought of how Neville stood up against them back in First Year, and how he fought in the Department of Mysteries last year, and then the contented look on his face as he spoke to and soothed the ferocious plants in a rage along their Silva defence line… well, perhaps it isn't entirely unexpected for Morrigan to patronise him either.

"Harry Potter!"

Without even taking a look at door, Harry recognised the booming voice in an instant. "Ragnok? You're early."

"Master Harry Potter, I apologises, I be saying that Master Harry Potter is busy, but…" The House elf following behind Ragnok was nearly in tears, she tried so hard to stop them at the foyer, but the group of Goblin warriors forced their way through anyway.

"It's alright, Mizzy, you can go back to work," Harry dismissed her, knowing very well that Goblins, especially hard-headed ones like Ragnok, had little care for human etiquette and niceties.

Ragnok took a sweeping glance at the mess around the room, and with a raised eyebrow, he sounded a little bemused, "Is this all you have achieved? Magic, Harry Potter, magic!"

Harry rolled his eyes, "You remember being the one telling me that Yule gifts have to be manually sorted because using magic removes the natural magic in these things? Ragnok, perhaps your age is starting to become a burden…"

"Nonsense, I am at the perfect age for a strong Goblin warrior!" Ragnok puffed his chest, ignoring the raised eyebrows from his fellow Goblins.

Harry pushed the baskets towards the Goblins and gave them a welcoming (or actually, calculating) smile, "Well then, O' Mighty Goblin Warriors, do save us all from distress, and aid us all in packing the wondrous gifts of Yule!"

Seeing the dismayed look on their faces, Neville and Remus didn't even bother hiding their laughter – the Gringotts tellers notwithstanding, all of them knew very well that Goblin warriors were far from being organised and domestic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not telling anyone what "nghariyf" means yet, maybe someone can take a guess? It'll be revealed, perhaps a number of chapters later.
> 
> *All Yule traditions and celebrations was taken from https://wicca.com/celtic/akasha/yule.htm
> 
> **Morrigan is a war deity, Dian Cecht is the God of Healing, Brigid is a God who engages in healing and poetry, and Badb is also a war deity, often considered in combination with Morrigan.


	22. Christmas Spirit

Harry hummed happily as he meandered around the kitchen tables filled with dishes of their Christmas feast and desserts – it took him a fair amount of effort to get the House elves to allow him to commandeer the kitchens for the Yule dinner, and he was going to make full use of that. Though well, after tasting some of the dishes he prepared, the House elves have willingly offered their assistance in his quest to prepare a traditional feast fit for a king.

At first he wanted to get Neville to help him out, but Narcissa got to him before Harry could even ask. Harry snickered as he thought of Neville’s reaction when Narcissa approached him with the intention to groom the hedges around the Manor – he knew that Neville had his eyes set on those deceptively innocent shrubs and rose plants ever since he set foot in the Manor. Imagine his horror when a highly excited Neville gushed to him lovingly about the flesh-eating properties of those shrubs, and the acid released by those thorny roses... He understood well enough why Morrigan would make a choice of Neville Longbottom now, and really clearly too.

And then he went to Remus, thinking that surely the werewolf wouldn’t refuse his request to spend time cooking together. But to his surprise, Remus had apologetically turned away when he asked, instead dragging his three suitors away to the training room when he thought Harry wasn’t looking.

“Master Harry Potter, can Dipsy be taking the cookies out now?”

Harry checked the time and nodded, watching as the House elf retrieved the tray of mixed chocolate chip cookies from the oven. With enthusiastic house elves around, he really didn’t have much to do around the kitchen except the actual cooking bit – which was limited too seeing that the house elves kept staring at him with those unbelievably wide eyes, trembling lips and twisting fingers when he tried to lift something beyond the weight of the pepper grinder and the spatula. They even stopped him from flipping the chunk of venison meat in the pan, insisting he step aside during dangerous instances. What was so dangerous about flipping the meat? It’s not as if the slab of meat would suddenly jump into the air and start hurling itself at Harry, or throw fireballs and stuff at him, will it?

Another two House elves whirled around bringing the bowl of chilled icing that Harry had prepared before and placed it next to the trays of cooled gingerbread cookies, sending Harry an expectant look.

“Should I be worried that you managed to gain the admiration of our House elves so soon, Kitten?” A lazy drawl came from the entrance to the kitchens.

"Young Master Draco! You is not to be in the kitchens!" Dipsy shrieked, twisting the edge of her tea towel.

Draco raised an amused brow, “If it was Father telling you to keep me out of the kitchens, you can stop worrying now, Father is too busy to care where I am right now.”

Dipsy glanced between Harry’s barely suppressed smile and Draco’s raised brow, finally deciding to just let the issue go. Even if Master Lucius was unhappy with the Malfoy heir wandering around the kitchens, he wouldn’t really punish them anyway – that was what all the house elves realised upon the first night Harry came to Malfoy Manor.

“Stop terrifying your poor house elves,” Harry admonished, “You should be glad Hermione isn’t here with her S.P.E.W. efforts, or I’ll just leave you to her mercy.”

Draco walked around the table to stand behind Harry, watching his Chosen carefully covering the cauldron-shaped gingerbread cookie with a light orange icing over his shoulder, “Granger is still working on that project? Seriously? She should know by now that House elves – free or not – desire to serve people, don’t she?”

“She knows, she just doesn’t agree with threatening and punishing them; or making them feel horrible at not being able to carry out your orders, for that matter,” Harry hummed nonchalantly, paying no attention to the arm winding around his waist.

Draco leaned his chin against Harry’s shoulders, taking care not to disturb his movements as he rebutted, “I’m not mistreating them, they simply take my Father’s orders too seriously. And ever since you came to the Manor, the house elves are getting more and more daring now; I don’t see a problem with giving them more opportunities to exercise their free will, so as to speak.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he started covering another cookie with a pale green icing, not deigning that statement with an answer.

Draco simply continued watching Harry icing the cookies leisurely, dabbing the top part of the icing with a toothpick to create a rippling pattern mimicking the bubbling effect of a boiling potion. He hadn’t had a chance to be alone with his Chosen for a while, they were all so busy with Yule preparations before this –getting the Yule baskets packed for gifting was simply madness, and those Goblin warriors only made it worse– and “bad” wasn’t even a sufficient term to describe the situation for the three Slytherins after the werewolf arrived.

Remus Lupin was one incredibly unbearable wolf after he learnt that they were Courting Harry – he would turn up at the most inconvenient timing just as Harry was about to give them a light hug or a chaste kiss, smiling in an oh-so-friendly manner and pulling Harry away, claiming that he wanted to talk to Harry (and specially pointed out that it was some private marauders-only information). As If they couldn’t tell that the wolf simply didn’t want to see them together with Harry in private!

Of course, Harry being Harry, blinded by the happiness at seeing his pseudo-godfather after quite a long while, wasn’t bothered too much about it, and left them to the mercy of his overprotective wolf. Not to mention that Remus kept dragging them off to the training room in the name of testing their skills and getting some decent practice... They didn’t want to harm someone so important to Harry, but the wolf had no reservations whatsoever – it was an unfair duel from the very beginning.

They tried to refuse it, of course, but the wolf would give them that I-don’t-trust-you-with-my-cub-unless-you-prove-yourself-worthy-and-if-you’re-not-I’ll-just-whisk-my-cub-far-far-away-from-you look that they just had to answer to.

Not that they didn’t trust Harry’s determination or promise either, but they didn’t want Harry to have to choose a side between his suitors and his father’s best friend. And since Remus had already agreed not to kill Harry’s suitors and learn to accept them, he didn’t hurt them too badly in their training duels either – he just wanted them to know that they have to work hard to protect Harry. In a sense, they could understand where he was coming from, and they are not going to deny the fact that they bypassed the step of obtaining Harry’s guardian’s approval –which probably constituted a large part of Remus’ dissatisfaction– so they can tolerate the wolf’s numerous attempts to make their lives difficult. But that doesn’t mean that they’re happy with it!

Harry turned his head around to peek at Draco’s expression, snickering as he caught sight of the scrunched eyebrows and upturned lips. “How was training with Remus?”

Draco glared half-heartedly at him, knowing that Harry was just making fun of him, “Your godfather is insufferable, Harry, and you know what I mean.”

“It can’t be that bad, right? I don’t hear Severus or Lucius complaining much about it.” Harry just gave him a raised brow and a contemplative look.

That’s because Father and Uncle Severus are both too proud to admit that they’re being beaten by the wolf! But Draco wouldn’t dare to just say that out loud, who knows whether Father or Uncle Severus will learn of him talking bad of them (and inadvertently making them look bad in front of their Chosen) behind their backs and come after him?

Harry smiled inwardly, he knew that Remus was still a little unhappy with this Courting even after checking with him that he entered this relationship entirely willingly, and wanted to vent his frustration about it somehow – which was mainly why Harry never stopped him. He knew that Remus will eventually accept them, and he’d give his suitors a little compensation with Yule dinner and his Christmas gifts, so they’ll just have to bear with it for the time being.

Draco was still in a dark mood when a cookie was abruptly fed into his mouth. Munching on the cookie thoughtfully, he nodded his head in appreciation, “This tastes exquisite!”

Harry smiled indulgently, very satisfied with Draco’s comment. “I thought you might like this, since you love chocolate so much.” Seems that it was a good decision to mix both sweet white chocolate chips and bittersweet dark chocolate chips into the batter after all.

Draco hummed in agreement; the chocolate chip cookie nailed his sweet tooth just right. Well, now he feels a wee bit more pacified about the treatment he received from Remus, but just a wee bit though, he’s definitely going to ask more from his little kitten later when they’re out of the wolf’s sight (and hopefully, mind). Hmm, maybe they should start planning where should they bring Harry for post-Yule dinner for their public declaration of Courting...

Happily munching on a second chocolate cookie Harry fished out from the trays lying somewhere near the edge of the table, Draco made a decision to discuss bringing the public declaration to the forefront tonight when Remus gathers Harry off to their rooms –as usual– to talk.

Sneaking a peek at Harry’s concentrated gaze on the gingerbread cookies in front of him, he reached for one of the iced cookies, curious about the different icings covering the cauldron-shaped cookies.

“Ow!” Upon receiving a sharp slap on his wrist, Draco pulled his hand back to its position on Harry’s waist, staring accusingly at him, “What was that for?”

“These are for Severus, you can eat those-” Harry gave him a disapproving look, and pointed towards the trays of chocolate chip cookies, “-while I finish this up and move on to yours.”

Putting on a kicked-puppy look (not that this will ever happen in the company of his friends or the Gryffindors, he’ll never live that down), Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry’s soft ebony locks, whining petulantly, “It’s just a cookie, I’m sure Uncle Severus wouldn’t mind; and he won’t even know about it!”

Harry grinned inwardly as he caught a glimpse of black robes in the corner of his eye near the kitchen doors, but didn’t give Draco any warning.

“I do not think you should be so sure of that, Draco,” An amused voice smoothly interrupted Draco in the midst of his whining, making him freeze mid-sentence.

Severus went around the kitchen tables, stopping beside Harry to take a look at the cookies that Harry claimed were for him, pleased to find that the cookies were shaped as either cauldrons or potion vials. Harry leisurely stretched a hand towards Severus, holding onto the broad shoulders as he tip-toed to give his Shadow Daemon suitor a light kiss on the cheek.

“Try this, I added some pomegranate to the icing since I couldn’t get the passion fruit syrup that I wanted, I’m not sure whether you’ll like this taste though,” Harry admitted as he picked up one of the cauldron gingerbread cookies covered with pinkish orange icing.

Severus ate the cookie that was held right by his mouth, not forgetting to give a teasing bite on Harry’s fingers that didn’t manage to retract fast enough, before savouring the taste of the cookie. Giving a thoughtful hum, Severus was once again swept away by Harry’s culinary skills – ever since they started exchanging letters with Harry, they were addicted to the cakes and cookies that Harry was so fond of attaching with each of his letters, the boy had a knack of creating twists and improvements upon the original recipes, making the most enticing desserts they had ever tasted.

“How is it?” Harry asked anxiously, watching Severus’ face intently. While Draco told him that Severus enjoyed citrus flavours in general, he realised that it wasn’t exactly all sorts of citrus flavours either – lemon was one of his preferred but lime was not, and he didn’t mind passion fruit but he tended to avoid grapefruit.

Long, pale fingers brushed across Harry’s cheeks, lightly removing the specks of flour that hung to the edge of his face as Severus gave him a genuine smile, “It is splendid, Harry.” And that was entirely true.

Harry returned him a brilliant smile. He felt oddly satisfied that even Severus, who was normally less liberal with compliments, gave him a good feedback on the taste of the cookies. “I’ll bake some more before school starts then.”

Severus gently threaded his fingers through Harry’s silky hair, “There is no need to put in too much effort into this, Harry, I still have a stash of the lemon-filled chocolates you made.” It was a bit of a concern for them when they realised that Harry was rather fixated on making enough treats for them to hoard in their rooms; especially so when his friends mentioned that this habit appears to have grown out of the treatment he had at the Dursleys – Severus’ expression became gloomy as he thought about this, if only he could get his hands on those miserable excuses for human beings...

“Severus?” Harry’s voice snapped him back into reality. “I don’t mind doing this, I like baking. So long as you like it, I guess.”

“I am sure everything you make for us would be divine,” Severus reassured him, watching contentedly as Harry’s eyes lit up with pleasure and satisfaction –Harry was so easy to please, yet it hurt them to note that he was so eager to please them– and turned to Draco, “For the time being, I would require your assistance in the lab, Draco.”

“What?” Draco whined, tightening his hold onto Harry’s waist. He finally got some time alone with Harry, and Uncle Severus just had to put an end to it!

Severus resisted the impulse to roll his eyes at Draco’s childish display, giving him a stern look instead. If not for the fact that the potion he was intending to brew was part of the Courting gift they intended to present to Harry during the declaration, he wouldn’t have wanted Draco in his private lab either – favourite student or not (even that is a little arguable now since Harry started showing his proficiency in Potions), he didn’t appreciate other people’s presence in his utmost treasured private space (of course, Harry remained the exception).

Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry’s face and neck again, before finally letting go of him, “Alright, I’m coming, Uncle Severus.”

Harry nearly laughed at his obvious displays of reluctance, tapping him lightly on the shoulders as a little encouragement. Before turning back to the cookies however, he took another glance at the kitchen doors and asked, “By the way, where is Lucius?”

“I assume he is dealing with some of the Malfoy family business transactions in the study,” Severus answered, ignoring Draco’s muttered “Father will never allow himself to be seen in the _kitchen_ ”, “Do you need him now?”

Harry just shook his head, “No, it’s just that I haven’t seen him today. Perhaps I should drop by the study later, he’ll probably forget about tea and dinner if I don’t.”

While Lucius was adamant about Harry not missing a single meal, he wasn’t very mindful of his own meals – sometimes Harry would find him immersed in his lesson planning or business dealings that he had forgone lunch or dinner, or both, without even realising it (especially when there weren’t Malfoy house elves to remind him it was time for meals). Severus, Draco and Narcissa had already gotten used to it and gave up on changing his habit, but Harry had no qualms about making sure that his suitor ate every meal and remained healthy; not to mention that Lucius was entirely willing and pleased to satisfy Harry’s demands of him – after all, obtaining Harry’s company during his meals was just a major plus point, isn’t it?

Severus nodded in agreement, it was rather amusing to see Harry bossing Lucius around (when it was usually the other way around), and even more amusing to watch Lucius give in to their adorable little Chosen.

After Severus and Draco both left the kitchen, Harry checked over the completed dishes again before plating some salted caramel cookies together with a pot of freshly brewed Earl Grey on a silver tray.

“Remember to remove the stuffed turkey from the oven in another two hours, and don’t forget the dressing for the salad that’s sitting in the cooling cabinet. Oh, and for the pudding, pour the syrup only before it is served...” Harry couldn’t stop himself from reminding the House elves about the remaining preparations for the Yule dinner, even though he had already explained and reminded them twice – or was that thrice?

“Of course, Master Harry Potter Sir! Dipsy is making sure that Masters’ dinner is perfect! Dipsy will not disappoint Master Harry!” The House elf flapped her ears excitedly, bowing and exclaiming profusely.

And with that Harry was pushed out of the kitchen with the loaded tray by the House elves before he could get another word in – well, the House elves definitely didn’t want to delay teatime for their Master Lucius, especially when it was bonding time for Young Master Harry and Master Lucius!

* * *

 

Lucius flipped through another disappointing piece of business contract with some frustration; couldn’t those people negotiate business smoothly without asking him for his opinions? Or else what was he paying them for, maybe it was time to re-bargain their wages – or would it be better if he changed the staff altogether? The Goblins seemed willing to take over business dealings, just as they had done with Harry’s, which apparently had at least tripled since Harry gave them full control over the transactions involving his family estate and investments.

The soft knock at his study door distracted him minutely from the pile of useless documents on his desk. Harry appeared at the doorway, levitating a loaded tea tray in the air while giving him a meek look, “Did I interrupt something?”

Lucius shook his head, pushing the papers to one side of his desk, “No, Harry, you are just the distraction I was hoping for.”

Harry placed the tray onto the cleared desk , climbed onto Lucius’ lap and snuggled comfortably into his welcoming embrace. Smiling at Lucius’ sniffing at his hair and neck, he leaned back and spared the pile of documents a glance, “What’s wrong with those?”

“Just mindless ramblings of irrational investment choices that are entirely unprofitable from inane fools who call themselves my financial advisors,” Lucius muttered into Harry’s hair, rubbing his cheeks affectionately against the top of his head. “Utter idiots, all of them.”

Harry giggled at the tickling of Lucius’ hair against his neck. Both Draco and Lucius was rather fond of rubbing their faces and cheeks against him – Severus said it was a Veela instinct to try to leave traces of their scent onto him, but he wasn’t very sure that really was happening or not – and he thought that he quite liked the genuine intimacy of these gestures (well, it’s really like getting rubbed against the leg by your pet dog or cat, isn’t it?).

It wasn’t until he felt a tongue grazing the top of his ear and light nips at his ear lobe that he felt a need to put an end to it – suitor or not, he wasn’t about to let Lucius grope him here in the study!

Quickly putting some distance between Lucius’ face and his body, he covered Lucius’ mouth with both hands, a furious blush spreading across his cheeks while he exclaimed, “There’s a time and place for everything, Lucius!”

Lucius’ eyes darkened at his words, giving a sensuous lick down Harry’s palm – _so that means it’s fine at a different time, different place?_

Harry could almost read the seductive promise in those grey eyes. Quickly breaking their gaze, he stuffed a piece of cookie he brought into Lucius’ mouth before the man could say anything, busying himself with the teapot and teacups.

Lucius smirked at Harry’s reaction, it was obvious to them that Harry had been rather liberal with all the kissing and touching recently, but he knew it wasn’t appropriate to go too far before their public declaration – their little Elf will learn very soon that having two Veela and a Shadow Daemon in the Chase would mean that he had no way of wiggling out of these intimacies by then. So he’ll grant Harry some liberty in pretending nothing has changed between them for now.

Sensing that Lucius won’t be pressing further, Harry placed the poured tea down with an audible clank of the saucer onto the table –pointedly ignoring Lucius’ wince at the excessive but purposeful force– and stared at him with a raised brow, “Well?”

Lucius had a momentary blank look as he tried to understand what did Harry meant, until he realised that Harry was asking about the taste of the cookie; and gave the young man a thoughtful smile, “Hmm, I am afraid my attention was elsewhere for a moment, love, perhaps you would not mind feeding me another?”

With a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Harry picked up another salted caramel cookie. It wasn’t until Lucius curled his tongue around Harry’s finger as he ate the cookie off Harry’s hand that he realised what went through Lucius’ head just now. Pulling his finger free, Harry gave Lucius another half-hearted glare – seriously, it wasn’t as if Lucius was a hormone-driven teenager, was he? Of course, Harry would profusely deny that he is ignoring the fact that Lucius is also a Veela suitor who is about to engage in a Chase, which apparently heightens their already strong sex drive…

“It is absolutely delightful, love,” Lucius smiled gently, fingers stroking Harry’s wrist in a soothing manner, “When have we ever not enjoyed your culinary skills? You do know that we treasure everything that you gift us with?”

Harry tried and failed to maintain a straight face at Lucius’ blatant attempt at complimenting him, allowing the man to slowly thread their fingers together as he scooted more comfortably onto his lap. Passing the cup of tea to Lucius, he couldn’t prevent himself from showing a playful scowl, “Hmph, I’ll let you off this time.”

Lucius hid a smirk behind his teacup, compliments and sweet endearments were the easiest ways to break through Harry’s dark moods or calm (or so Harry thought) demeanours – of course, each and every of those words they spoke of Harry were well-deserved. Placing his teacup back onto the saucer, he stroked Harry’s ebony locks gently, “What is wrong, love?”

“What do you mean?” Harry raised his head to give Lucius a questioning gaze.

Placing a soft kiss on the young man’s forehead, Lucius murmured against the top of his head, “I know you better than you think I do, Harry. Every time you go into a baking spree, it means that you have something on your mind that is frustrating or worrying you. From what the house elves have been reporting to me, your engagement in the kitchen today seems to fit that pattern perfectly.”

In fact, if what the house elves were saying is true, the baked goods alone were enough to feed an army.

Harry was silent for a moment – he didn’t actually realise that this was happening, but indeed, now that he thought about it, he did have an irrational need to cook and bake when he felt stressed. Somehow it made him feel a little comforted that Lucius recognised this pattern before he did himself.

Being a master at reading facial emotions, Lucius knew that Harry understood what he meant. “What is on your mind? Maybe I can help you with it?”

Harry took a few sips of his tea, adding more milk as he tried to organise his thoughts, “I guess I’m not really sure – so many things have been going on these entire time, I don’t even know what to think about…”

“Well, just off the top of your head, what is nagging you right this moment?” Lucius took another cookie off the plate, breaking off a part of it to share with his Chosen at the same time.

Harry munched on that bite thoughtfully, “…probably the meeting with the Vampires? I need to arrange a meeting with the Coven soon to nail the details of our agreement, but the look on Severus’ face when I mentioned that the first time yesterday… I don’t know, he didn’t actually say anything, but I’ve got the feeling that Severus seems to be quite upset about it. And I don’t really want to make a decision that is bound to make him unhappy with me – I mean, he wasn’t even this upset when I messed up one of our experimental potions!”

Lucius smiled gently, Harry doesn’t seem to understand the possessive qualities of a Shadow Daemon suitor as of yet, especially when it came to his kinsmen. “Vampires are known to be rather aggressive and promiscuous, love; they devour not only blood, but beauty and innocence.”

Harry frowned, he thought Severus said something similar back during the Ministry Party or something, “So?”

“So, love, Severus might be feeling a little insecure at the moment,” Lucius fed another half mouthful of cookie to Harry and swallowed the other half himself, “Perhaps you have not realised, Harry, while you entrust Severus with more secrets than you do us –not that I am complaining– you are not as… hmm, how should I put it? Intimate maybe? Veela have a greater tendency to initiate physical touches, cooing and Courting behaviour with our Chosen, it is our nature to desire closeness; Shadow Daemons, on the other hand, despite their possessiveness and jealousy, are less likely to express emotional weakness and dependency – they see themselves as protectors and guardians. Could it be that he needs some reassurance from you that you will not be drawn by his Blood kinsmen, who are known to be extremely seductive _and_ persuasive?”

Harry thought carefully about all their interactions, and realised with a surprise that what Lucius suggested might actually be true. He frequently went to Severus when he needed emotional support and comfort, just like the time when he barged into the Potions Master’s chambers during the night that he learnt of the truth of the Horcruxes, but most of the time, he recalled snuggling up to Draco in the Slytherin Common room, or the gentle kisses with Lucius, and of course, the sweet exchange of love notes and endearments with both the Malfoys – had he been too ignorant of the needs of his Shadow Daemon suitor? He knew that Severus needed reassurance just as the two Veela required, but because Severus didn’t show signs of it, he kind of assumed that Severus was content with their relationship as it was. Maybe he was wrong…

Making a decision to go and seek out Severus for a little talk and cuddling session later, Harry turned a wry smile at Lucius, “I guess you’re right, _nghariyf_ , but that suspiciously sounded as if you needed reassurance too.”

Sometimes Harry liked using different names to address them, the terms sounded like Elvish, but every time they tried asking, Harry would just look away, pretending not to hear their questions. By now they could already differentiate the unfamiliar terms – _nghariyf_ referred to Lucius, _arw’tyll_ was Severus, and Draco’s was _cydyma’ia_ – and Harry’s reluctance to translate the terms didn’t matter either, meeting the Elves (well, at least the Royal Elves) was on the Sanctuary’s agenda, they could wait until then to satisfy their curiosity, unless they manage to pry it out of Harry first.

Lucius smiled at Harry, flicking his fringe to the side, “It would be a crime not to accept your offer, love.” Touching his nose against Harry’s, he smiled gently at the slightly flustered look on the young Elf’s face, stroking down the nape of Harry’s neck, “I will admit that I too, find the prospect of you meeting with the Vampires quite undesirable, but perhaps if you would give me a little confirmation that you do not desire another in the Chase, I might be able be a little more liberal on this issue?”

And Harry’s plan to seek out Severus had to be delayed since his entire afternoon was spent cuddling with Lucius – well, they did talk about setting up a duelling platform for the DA as well, but that wasn’t the main focus.


	23. Yule Dinner

Harry happily wandered into the dining room with Severus following closely behind – he finally got some time alone with Severus just before dinner, and had an intense heart-to-heart session with him. Although he knew that Severus still tended to mask his perceived weaknesses (and of course, the need for closeness), they did talk about his insecurities with Harry visiting the Vampire Coven, and Harry managed to assuage his uncertainties for the moment with a few hugs and kisses, and repeated promises that he didn’t _want_ another suitor involved.

Exchanging a brief kiss with both Lucius and Draco – which was really brief due to Remus watchful eye and interruptive cough – Harry looped his arm around Severus’ and took a seat next to Narcissa, across the two Malfoys, and pulling Severus down to sit beside him.

Sticking his tongue out at Neville’s teasing look at his interactions with his suitors, he turned to introduce Sterein to the Slytherins, “This is Sterein Romboski, the private solicitor for the Potter family; and Sterein, this is Lucius, Draco, Severus and Narcissa.”

Sterein had an amiable temperament, nodding his head in a friendly manner towards them, not showing any sign of disdain or similar emotions that was normally given to the Slytherins. “It is my pleasure to make acquaintance, sirs,” and smiling at Narcissa, “and madam, I have heard favourable accounts of you from My Lord.”

Harry rolled his eyes and spoke before the Slytherins could respond to him, “Really, Sterein? _My Lord_? Since when did you hold so much respect for me? And there isn’t a need to go all formal and distant with them, I trust them.”

Sterein raised a brow, “And here I thought you were secretly harbouring some dissatisfaction for me not showing you some respect, Harry. You say you trust them, even with the Strangers?”

“They _are_ the Strangers, Sterein,” Harry rolled his eyes at Sterein, and turned towards Lucius with a whine, “I’m starving, Lucius.”

Lucius muffled a laugh as he clapped his hands for the House elves to serve dinner. Without further words, Harry dug into his meal happily, prompting the rest to follow suit.

Neville couldn’t help stealing glances at Harry and his three suitors throughout the meal – well, it’s not often that you get to see three Slytherins acting all so lovey-dovey, do you? Before knowing about their relationship with Harry, he never thought he’d ever see the Malfoys with any expression on their faced aside from disdain and cool indifference, neither did he knew that Professor Snape’s scowl could actually be replaced by a faint smile (just imagining that gives him the shudders – unless it was aimed at Harry of course!).

“Neville, since you seem incredibly interested, I guess you should visit the Vampire Coven together with us then,” Harry threw him an entirely innocent look, but Neville knew that he was clearly caught peeking at them.

“I’ve never expressed any interest in vampires, Harry, don’t try to pin this on me,” Neville twitched his nose, “And didn’t you just tell me to help with the negotiations between the werewolves yesterday?”

Harry smiled winningly, “Vampires and werewolves, sounds like a lovely combination, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ll love it; getting the long-time rivals to happily work together – what could be a better job, Nev? And such cooperation is sure to catch Voldemort unexpected!”

Of course it would catch Voldemort off-guard, it is already catching _himself_ off-guard now… Neville rolled his eyes, vampires and werewolves mixed together sounded like pure trouble – did it spell easy-to-fool right across his face? “So you’re sending me into a downward spiral of never-ending negotiations between two groups of creatures who have been feuding for an indefinite amount of time? What have I done to garner that fate, Harry?” Surely a few peeks didn’t cost him that much?

“I’m sure you’ll manage, Nev, with your charm and everything?”

Neville gave him a glare, “No, really, tell me what you’re trying to do. I’m not going anywhere – or doing anything – dangerous without a valid reason to. I still haven’t gotten my experiment with the _Silva_ frontline completed, you know.”

“Alright, I might have overheard that the untamed forest and maze gardens were growing a bit wild for the vampires and the werewolves manage on their own, so perhaps a resident Herbologist might sweeten our deal with them,” Harry shrugged.

Neville’s eyes brightened immediately, “The untamed forest? _The_ untamed forests in the ancient weres’ territory that’s rumoured to have the most ferocious breed of vines? And the vampires’ rose maze that has more than a hundred magical breeds?”

Harry had to turn his head to hide his widening smile – he knew that Neville just couldn’t resist having a chance to sample those wild terrains for himself! “So I take it that you are not against this assignment, then?” He received an exasperated but definitely interested (or rather, intrigued) nod in return; and he stopped himself from adding that he had just received news from Ragnok about making contact with the Forest Nymphs – well, one thing at a time, right?

“I presume that the apparent glee on your face is more than just assigning Longbottom to the task?” Severus caught sight of Harry’s mirth right away and leaned in to ask.

Harry chuckled lowly and whispered, “Suffice to say that Neville has too much of a weakness to fend against my requests for him to negotiate with the Forest Nymphs in the future.”

Severus could only give him an indulgent smile; anyway, as long as Harry didn’t take up the burden of all responsibilities, he wasn’t overly concerned. He was already struggling to willingly allow his Chosen to walk into a den of vampires, never mind that it will be entirely under his company, and the nymphs were surely to come after Yule, which coincides with the post-declaration period to which he will be at the height of his overprotectiveness and possessiveness (and the two Veela, no doubt). Although knowing Harry, he was bound to be heading the most important missions and discussions despite their reluctance; falling for such a strong-willed Chosen was, at times, quite a chore.

“Harry, since you have already freed your suitors here of their binding to You-Know-Who, how are we going to gain intelligence on that side?” Sterein dabbed his chin clean of all remnants of the meat sauce (it wasn’t his fault that he was gobbling down the food – who knew Harry has such exemplary cooking skills), “And how are the both of you going to explain to Dumbledore that you will not be attending any Death Eater meetings anymore?”

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, “I’ve sent two very trustworthy spies into Voldemort’s network, they’ll be giving me information about the raids and decisions that Voldemort is planning; the Sanctuary should be prepared to start going on active missions against the Death Eaters now, I suppose – Ragnok already has all the defence trinkets and kits ready, the Death Eaters are not the only ones prepared to go onto raids now. On Professor Dumbledore’s side however, honestly? I totally forgot about it… What are you going to tell him, Lucius, Severus?”

“Since the Sanctuary is intending on pursuing an offensive stance, perhaps it would be prudent to consider releasing some information to Dumbledore,” Lucius suggested, “Tell him a partial truth – that we have been offered sanctuary and our Dark Mark has been removed but nothing beyond. Our oath to the Order of the Phoenix only required that we do not mean ill to the Order and its members, information discussed is not even protected under secrecy, neither can it demand full disclosure.”

“Then what will you do should Dumbledore ask for an audience with the Sanctuary?”

Severus smirked, “We are under secrecy oaths, no matter what he asks of us, he will realize that we cannot give an answer.”

Harry grinned, “I’m glad I insisted on secrecy oaths together with loyalty oaths – though I didn’t even have to swear loyalty to the Order when they agreed to include me in the meetings.” He guessed that being the Chosen One meant that everyone assumed that his allegiances would be with the Light; which totally disregarded his own opinions.

“Yes, yes, Harry, very clever,” Sterein rolled his eyes, “But what about the two spies you sent into You-Know-Who’s circle? Are you sure they will not be compromised?”

Harry threw a quick meek look at Lucius and Severus before speaking, “Well, remember the snake spirits I mentioned that were in the Dark Marks? They were given rebirth with the exchange of my blood and Elven magic, and since they’re mixed with Voldemort’s magic in the first place anyway, he wouldn’t even notice them entering his territory.”

Everyone at the table save Sterein and Remus gave him a hard look, they haven’t forgotten the ritual that Harry refused to elaborate to them – even though he wasn’t actually hurt in the process, they didn’t find the prospect of him being bitten by two snake spirits or fighting against Voldemort’s magical link the least bit assuring.

As Harry tried his best not to shrink from the disapproving looks sent across the table, Sterein – acting ignorant of the atmosphere – pressed on, “If You-Know-Who already knows that he lost two of his followers, I am surprised that he has not taken any more drastic measures in his fury… or did he?”

“Oh, he was angry alright, very angry in fact,” Harry couldn’t suppress the shudder as he remembered the first few nights after the ritual, Voldemort’s anger trickled so much through their link that he had nightmares, visions and headaches so often following the removal of the Dark Marks (despite taking Severus’ modified brew of sleeping draughts), so bad that he took to sleeping in Lucius’ chambers because the man was best able to give him a sense of security and warmth in his sleep. “I think he has something big planned, so he increased the number of raids, but they were all minor ones and a few of our allies were able to dispatch the attack before it became worse.”

“What do you reckon-” Neville didn’t even finish his sentence as a distraught-looking House elf appeared in the dining room.

“Mippy apologises for disturbing dinner, sirs, but a wizard is asking for Master Harry Potter, and wizard not listen to Mippy when she says Master is not free!” Mippy flapped her eyes nervously, twisting her hands in clear distress over not being able to dismiss unwanted guests from the family.

Harry shushed Lucius before he could say anything, who responded with a raised brow and shrug, “It’s ok, Mippy, who is the wizard?”

“The wizard is saying his name is Rufus Scrimgeour, he is saying important things to talk to Master Harry Potter!” Mippy bowed low and started tugging her ears, “Mippy is sorry, Master Harry!”

“It’s fine, Mippy, you didn’t do anything wrong, I don’t want you to punish yourself over this,” Harry said sternly, “Show him into the sitting room, Mippy, I will be there shortly.”

After Mippy disapparated to invite the Minister into the Manor, Lucius left his seat to help Harry out of his seat, muttering softly, “I really should not be allowing you to spoil the House elves like this, I must be going too soft on their discipline.”

“But I like you better like this,” Harry pouted and turned to look at him, “Surely you can make an exception for me?”

“If you say so, love, perhaps I could try to make a little concession,” Lucius took Harry’s hand into his and led the way to the sitting room as was his duty being the Head of the House, and Harry’s suitor, while the others followed behind.

Harry gave him a smile before entering the sitting room, swiftly leaning forward to give him a light peck on the cheek, “I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

As he turned into the room, Rufus Scrimgeour was already seated on one of the chairs. Putting on a cool and emotionless face, Harry didn’t detach his hold onto Lucius’ arm as they sat in the main seat of the sitting room in from of the hearth, and the others settled down with some distance to give some semblance of respect for privacy.

“Good evening, Minister,” Lucius greeted with his usual aristocratic demeanour, “I apologise for the lack of proper courtesy for our guests to the Manor, the short notice of arrival was indeed much of a surprise – during Yule such an important festive season nonetheless.”

“Good evening to you too, Lucius,” Scrimgeour’s reply was similarly distant and polite, “You must forgive this intrusion – I will admit that this visit is rather unexpected, but I have important issues to discuss with Mr. Potter.”

“I am listening, Minister,” Harry wore a faint smile, “What would you like to discuss with me?”

Scrimgeour frowned at their interlocked arms, “This is quite a matter of importance, Mr. Potter, I would prefer to discuss this with a little more privacy.”

“Whatever you would like to bring up with me, you may speak of it freely in front of all of them,” Harry gave a sweeping gesture across the room lazily, “If not, I would rather you not talk to me, at all.”

“Interesting company you have here, Mr. Potter. Are you saying that you trust _all_ of them with your secrets?” Scrimgeour looked as if he was going to break out in incredulous laughter – or rather anger, or both. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Then I’m just glad that you are not me, Minister,” Harry replied coldly, “The people I keep in my company is not of your interest; I appreciate the advice but I trust my judgments better, sir.”

Scrimgeour hesitated for a moment and continued, “You appear to be different from rumoured be – I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time, did you know that? Harry?”

“No sir, though I’d prefer ‘Mr. Potter’ better, I think this is the first time we met, after all,” Harry said with brutal honesty, “And perhaps rumours are not as truthful as we’d like them to be, I guess.”

“Indeed, Mr. Potter, indeed,” said Scrimgeour. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a _very_ long time, but Dumbledore has been very protective of you… Natural, of course, natural, after what you’ve been through, especially what happened at the ministry…”

Harry didn’t so much as flicker an eyebrow as he spoke – if he was expecting some kind of response from Harry, Scrimgeour will have to be disappointed. Seeing that Harry had no intention of talking, Scrimgeour could only continue, “Think about all those rumours that have flown around! Well, we both know how these stories get distorted… all these whispers of a prophecy… of you being the ‘Chosen One’… I’m sure Dumbledore has discussed these issues with you, and I certainly don’t expect you to divulge your secrets with Professor Dumbledore on this, but in any case, does it really matter whether you are the Chosen One or not?”

Harry raised a brow in interest, it seems that the Minister was finally going to the main point of his visit.

“Well, to the Wizarding community at large… it’s all about perception, isn’t it? It’s what people believe that’s important. People believe you _are_ the Chosen One, you see. They think you are quite the hero – which, of course, you are, chosen or not! How many times have you faced He Who Must Not Be Named now? Anyway, the point is, you are a symbol of hope for many, Mr. Potter. The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even be _destined_ , to destroy He Who Must Not Be Named – well, naturally, it gives people a lift. And I can’t help but feel that, once you realise this, you might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the Ministry, and give everyone a boost.”

“Why don’t you simply cut to the chase, Minister,” Harry took his arm out of Lucius’ and gave the Minister a bland smile, “What are you trying to ask me to do?”

“Oh, well, nothing at all onerous, I assure you,” said Scrimgeour. “If you were to be seen popping in and out of the Ministry from time to time, for instance, that would give the right impression. And of course, while you were there, you would have ample opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror Office. Dolores Umbridge has told me that you cherish an ambition to become an Auror. Well, that could be arranged very easily ...”

Harry could feel a flash of anger rising within him – Dolores Umbridge? Hadn’t she ruined his school life enough? And the blatant manipulation didn’t sit well with him either. Lucius rubbed his fingers across the back of Harry’s hand soothingly, and he reined in his emotions and thoughts. “You want me to show support for the Ministry’s doing then, Minister?”

“Well, yes, that would give everyone a lift to think that you were involved with the Ministry…” Scrimgeour started but Harry cut him off smoothly, “I’m afraid that is not going to work, sir.”

Trying to keep his voice as pleasant as he could, he continued, “I don’t exactly support some of the things that the Ministry has been doing – for instance, locking up an innocent man for suspected Death Eater activities when we all know very well this is just a cover up for the Ministry’s inability to capture actual Death Eaters? Or trying a fifteen-year-old for performing underage magic when your own people sent Dementors into a Muggle town forcing his hand? Or perhaps encouraging the Daily Prophet to print lies about almost everything in the Wizarding community? I don’t think so.”

Scrimgeour did not speak for a moment, but his expression hardened instantly. “I do not expect you to understand, these are dangerous times, and certain measures need to be taken. You are sixteen years old-”

“Age is an issue of mind over matter; and you are not dealing with the dangers anyway – you simply made Stan a scapegoat, just as you are trying to make me a mascot for the Ministry,” Harry struggled to keep his anger out of his voice – he absolutely loathed the Ministry, “And I do not appreciate being used for a cause.”

“Some would say it’s your duty to be used by the Ministry!”

Harry’s gaze hardened almost immediately, “I, as a normal civilian, do not have a duty to the Ministry, seeing that it has made so many distasteful claims of me being attention-seeking and a liar. Unlike you, Minister, who is actually _appointed_ into office, with the responsibility of catching the right criminals, _and_ ensuring the safety of the Wizarding community at large.”

“So you’re not the Chosen One?”

“Either way, does it really matter whether I am the Chosen One or not?” Harry retorted, “Not to you, I suppose.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Scrimgeour said quickly, “It was tactless-”

“No, it was honest,” Harry interrupted, “Probably the only honest thing you said so far. You don’t care whether I live or die, but you do care that I help convince everyone you’re winning the war against Voldemort. But I don’t remember you rushing to my defence when I was trying so hard to convince everyone that Voldemort was back; neither do I remember the Ministry retracting their accusations at me when they realised that Voldemort was indeed back. So you’ll have to forgive me if I can’t find myself harbouring friendly feelings for the Ministry.”

They looked at each other in a long silence, until Scrimgeour gave up all pretences and asked brusquely, “What is Dumbledore up to? Where does he go, when he is absent from Hogwarts?”

“I have no idea,” Harry smiled plainly, “Even if I knew, would you expect me to tell you?”

“Well, then, I shall have to see whether I can’t find out by other means.”

“You can certainly try,” said Harry indifferently. “I thought you were smarter than Fudge, what with witnessing so many of his mistakes. He tried interfering at Hogwarts, but as you might have noticed, he’s not Minister anymore, although Professor Dumbledore remains Headmaster of Hogwarts. Just my word of advice, Minister, I’d leave Professor Dumbledore alone, if I were you.”

There was a long pause.

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?”

“Am I?” Harry found this accusation rather funny, “Perhaps yes, perhaps not. I am my own man, Minister.”

Deciding that he’d had enough with the Minister, he turned to look at Lucius, who promptly gestured to the Minister upon receiving the unspoken message, “I am afraid that this is far beyond visiting hours, Minister. If there are further matters of importance, you could arrange for another meeting at a later date?”

Scrimgeour stared at Lucius incredulously, seemingly unable to believe that Lucius Malfoy succumbed to the wishes of Harry Potter so easily. Muttering his apology and thanks through grinded teeth, he turned and left.

Sterein grinned at the retreating figure of the Minister and nudged Harry in the ribs, “You are going to make _so_ many political enemies if you continue like this – though this one alone is going to be enough to make your life hell.”

“And that’s why I keep you around, Sterein,” Harry raised a brow at him, “So that you can get rid of all these political threats before they can get to me. Why else do I pay you for?”

Sterein spluttered and pointed accusingly at him, “But you are not supposed to make my job more difficult than it already is! And don’t you have a perfect candidate for dealing with these things sitting right beside you? He has more political clout than I do, isn’t he a better choice to sweep up your mess?”

Lucius muffled his laughter as Harry purposely leant onto him and gave Sterein a somewhat flirtatious wink, “Oh no, Sterein, Lucius is my suitor, he’s supposed to be focused on Courting me, I wouldn’t want him distracted from this by all those boring political drones with the Minister!”

Sterein rolled his eyes partially in exasperation, and partially as protest to the responsibility heaved upon him, “Well, then I suggest you make the Sanctuary as influential as possible soon, and make your attacks on the Death Eaters and You Know Who happen soon enough, or I won’t be able to use the Sanctuary and whatnot to hold off the Minister’s possible attacks on you.”

Harry nodded and switched the subject smoothly, “Speaking about the Sanctuary’s business, do you know someone with the initials R.A.B., who was, or is, a Death Eater?”

Sterein was thought for a while before shaking his head, “No, not that I know of, why?”

“There is something I acquired, at first I thought it was Voldemort’s but turned out it wasn’t, and the initials R.A.B was carved on the inner lid,” Harry fiddled absentmindedly with Lucius’ hair, thinking about the fake Horcrux that they found in the cave – he hadn’t found out anything about R.A.B. with his friends, and now that he thought about it, after he broke down once in Lucius’ room after the trip with Dumbledore, he hasn’t mentioned the locket to the Slytherins since.

Lucius, Severus and Narcissa exchanged a look, and Narcissa said, “That sounds like the initials of my cousin Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black. Is it him you are looking for?”

“Sirius’ brother, you mean?” Harry jolted upright, plucking the fake locket from his pocket and flipped it open, “Do you think this is his signature?”

Lucius and Severus leaned over to take a closer look at the words carved into the locket, and nodded hesitantly, “It would seem so, where did you acquire this?”

“It’s the thing I told you about the night I came back from the cave with Professor Dumbledore,” Harry didn’t want to talk about the nature of the Horcruxes in front of Remus and Sterein – one, it was unsafe; and two, he didn’t want more overprotective adults looming over him now. “Lucius, is it possible for me to summon my house elf here? Will the wards permit him entry?”

“Yes, as long as he is magically bound to you,” Lucius said.

Harry raised his voice and called, “Kreacher!”

There was a loud crack and the house elf appeared out of nowhere in front of them. He was still tiny, with pale skin hanging off him in folds, white hair sprouting copiously from his batlike ears, but he no longer wore a filthy rag Severus was used to seeing when the Order held meetings in Grimmauld Place. He wore a clean tea towel with an emblem of two lions, a sword and a shield –the Potter family crest– clearly emblazoned on the right; and the Black family crest on the left.

“Master,” croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog voice, and turned to Narcissa to give a slight bow, “and Miss Cissy. Kreacher has waited so long, has Master finally found a task for Kreacher to do?”

Severus raised a questioning brow, while the others were unaware of the relationship between Kreacher and anyone related to Sirius, he knew very well that the old house elf absolutely despised anyone being remotely related to Sirius, and had never given Harry and his friends, or even the Order, any semblance of good treatment. But the respect and loyalty Kreacher now showed towards Harry seemed to be genuine – looking at Harry, he wondered how his Chosen actually made this happen.

“Well, I haven’t found a job for you yet, but you could go to the Potter Manor and help out with the other house elves in preparation for our next meeting of the Sanctuary. For now, I’ve a question for you,” Harry said, his heart rate slowly increasing as he asked, “Have you seen this locket before?”

There was a moment’s silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he said, “Yes. I-It was Master Regulus’ locket.”

“Where is it now?”

“ _Gone_.”

“ _Gone_?” echoed Harry, a slight frown appearing between his brows, “What do you mean, it’s gone?”

“Mundungus Fletcher,” said Kreacher, his eyes tightly shut as though he could not bear the thought of it, “Mundungus Fletcher stole it all; Miss Bella’s and Miss Cissy’s pictures, my Mistress’ gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and-and-”

Kreacher was gulping for air. His hollow chest was rising and falling rapidly, then his eyes flew open and he uttered a bloodcurdling scream.

“- _and the locket, Master Regulus’ locket. Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!_ ”

Harry reacted instinctively. As Kreacher lunged for the poker standing in the grate, he launched himself upon the elf, flattening him, his voice louder than the shocked gasp from Narcissa, “Kreacher, no! I order you to stay still!”

Kreacher froze beneath him, and Harry released him. Kreacher lay flat on the floor, tears gushing from his sagging eyes.

“I don’t want you to punish yourself for this, Kreacher. And I’m sure Master Regulus wouldn’t want it too,” said Harry. “Where did this locket- Regulus’ locket come from? Tell me everything you know about it.”

The elf sat up, curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward. When he spoke, his voice was muffled but distinct enough in the silence of the sitting room.

“Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress’s heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper order; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggleborns… and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve…

“And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said… he said…”

The old elf rocked faster than ever.

“…he said that the Dark Lord required an elf.”

“Voldemort needed an elf?” Harry repeated, looking around at the others, who looked just as puzzled as he did.

“Oh yes,” moaned Kreacher. “And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honour, said Master Regulus, an honour for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do . . . and then to c-come home.”

Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

“So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake…”

The hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stood up. Kreacher’s croaking voice seemed to come to him from across the dark water that he never managed to forget. He saw what had happened as clearly as though he had been present.

“…There was a boat…”

Of course there had been a boat; Harry knew the boat, ghostly green and tiny, bewitched so as to carry one wizard and one victim toward the island in the centre. This, then, was how Voldemort had tested the defences surrounding the Horcrux, by borrowing a _disposable_ creature, a house elf…

“There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D–Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it. . . .”

The elf quaked from head to foot. And Harry, remembering the time when he was witness to Dumbledore’s breakdown in the cave, felt a shiver travel down his spine.

“Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible things… Kreacher’s insides burned… Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed… He made Kreacher drink all the potion… He dropped a locket into the empty basin … He filled it with more potion.”

“And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island . . . “

Harry could see it happening. He watched Voldemort’s white, snake-like face vanishing into darkness, those red eyes fixed pitilessly on the thrashing elf whose death would occur within minutes, whenever he succumbed to the desperate thirst that the burning poison caused its victim … He couldn’t help the cold sensation creeping up his extremities and sought out Lucius’ hand to grasp tightly, to not get lost in his fears.

“Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island’s edge and he drank from the black lake… and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface…”

“How did you get away?” Harry asked, not surprised to hear himself whispering.

Kreacher raised his head and looked Harry with his great, bloodshot eyes. “Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back,” he said.

“I know – but how did you escape the Inferi?”

Kreacher did not seem to understand.

“Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back,” he repeated.

There was a silence as Harry processed what Kreacher was telling him, and finally realising, “I see, elf magic! Voldemort didn’t care about house elves… It would never have occurred to him that you might have magic that he didn’t… So what happened when you got back? Was Regulus there?”

“Master Regulus was very worried, very worried,” croaked Kreacher. “Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then… it was a little while later… Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell… and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord… “

And so they had set off. Harry could visualize them quite clearly, the frightened old elf and the thin, dark man who had so resembled Sirius… Kreacher knew how to open the concealed entrance to the underground cavern, knew how to raise the tiny boat; this time it was his beloved Regulus who sailed with him to the island with its basin of poison…

“M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had,” said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snout-like nose. “And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets…”

Kreacher’s sobs came in great rasps now; Harry had to concentrate hard to understand him.

“And he order- Kreacher to leave- without him. And he told Kreacher- to go home- and never to tell my Mistress- what he had done- but to destroy- the first locket. And he drank- all the potion- and Kreacher swapped the lockets- and watched… as Master Regulus… was dragged beneath the water… and…”

Harry tried very hard to stop the scenes running in his head from affecting him, the horrors of the Dumbledore sinking into delusions and depression, and the numerous Inferi in the lake… He felt a warm hand clasped onto his shoulders, and looked up to find Severus leaned over concerned, while Draco too moved close, their knees touching lightly.

“So you brought the locket home,” he forced himself to calm down, for he was determined to know the full story. “And you tried to destroy it?”

“Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it,” moaned the house elf. “Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work… So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open… Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave…”

“Oh, Kreacher,” Narcissa sighed softly from the side, tears glistening in her eyes.

It took several moments before Kreacher’s sobs dwindled down, and Harry felt himself calm enough to continue talking. “Kreacher, I want you to do something for me.”

Kreacher looked up immediately with rapt attention, his big eyes still full with tears looked at Harry fervently, eager to complete his Master’s orders.

“Kreacher, I want you to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the real locket – Regulus’ locket – is. We need to finish the work Regulus started. When you find him, bring him to Grimmauld Place and keep him there, then come to me when you’re done,” said Harry. “Do you think you can do that?”

Kreacher hastily got to his feet, “Of course, Kreacher would do anything for Master! Kreacher will find Mundungus Fletcher, Kreacher will not fail Master!”

“Wait, Kreacher,” Harry stopped the house elf before his disapparated and plucked the note out of the locket, then held the locket out to Kreacher, “Here, I want you to have this. This was Regulus’ and I’m sure he’d want you to have it to remember him with…”

It took another long while for Kreacher to calm down, after being presented with a Black family heirloom of his own. He held the locket close to his chest and bowed deeply to Harry, before disapparating away with a loud _crack_.

Narcissa took a look at Harry and knew that it wasn’t a good time to discuss any other things tonight. “I think that perhaps we should retire for the night and resume any unfinished matters tomorrow. Sterein, Remus, Neville, I am sure the house elves have prepared the guest wing for you, please follow me.”

Both of them threw a few more worried looks at Harry who now had his head buried against Draco’s chest, and only turned to follow Narcissa when all three Slytherins gave them a nod, making a silent promise to take care of Harry.

Draco stroked Harry’s back soothingly but kept quiet, he could practically feel the waves of emotions rolling off the slender figure in his arms. Only after about ten minutes did Harry calm down, and the occasional shudders gone. Severus’ fingers threaded through his hair as the man inquired, “So would you like to tell us how you have managed to tame that ancient house elf?”

Sensing that Severus was trying to lighten his mood, Harry smiled softly. “After I came back from the Elven Realm, I wanted to see if there were any other books that would interest me in Grimmauld Place, so I went back there, had a small talk with Mrs. Black, tended to the house together with Kreacher and repaired some of the ancient heirlooms that hadn’t been raided.”

Severus raised a brow, “As simple as that?”

“Let’s just say that everything went a lot smoother once they realised that I had a _very_ Slytherin talent and an Elven inheritance,” Harry laughed, “Mrs. Black was quite happy to indulge me in my retelling of the Founder’s glory and stories I learned from the Elves, and Kreacher wasn’t hard to talk to once he was willing to actually listen to what I’m saying.”

Lucius chuckled. Of course, Parseltongue would definitely earn the respect of any Slytherin. Add that to Harry’s natural charm (amplified since his inheritance), he just gained two followers in his wake.

They talked for a while more, then looking at the time, Lucius declared it was well past bed time and everyone should go to bed. Harry hesitated for a moment and tugged on their sleeves.

“Can we- can we share a bed tonight? I’m just afraid I might have nightmares and I don’t really wan-”

“Shhh, Harry love,” Lucius shushed him gently, and received twin nods from both Severus and Draco, “You know that we would never deny you of the comfort you need. Come, let us bring you to bed.”


	24. Back to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! It's my final semester and things have been absolutely crazy... Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Harry breathed in deeply as he took in the gloomy walls of Hogwarts – they had just returned to school after the Yule break, and he sort of hoped that his temporary reprieve could have lasted a little longer. They finally managed to determine the finer details of their negotiation with the vampires, in which all the while Severus was glaring daggers at the younger group of vampires leering at Harry –whom, according to Lord Noctius, were somehow attacked by a mysterious dark figure right after the meeting– and he knew that one of the vampire Lords had his eyes set on Neville ever since the meeting.

More importantly, his three suitors were getting a little unbearable after they took him out for a dinner to make a public declaration: he couldn't be by himself for any time longer than a few minutes, and they were getting a little overbearing with him. He wondered how they were going to deal with the overpowering need to stay close when school resumed.

"Hey, Harry," Ron called out to him from behind, but carefully steered away when Harry turned around to face him, "Well, I really would have liked to give you a big bear hug to show you how much I missed you, but I guess I'd prefer my safety to be guaranteed for the time being."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned.

Ron raised his brow as he explained, "I'm not sure whether you've noticed, Harry, but you _are_ being Courted by two Veela and a Shadow Daemon, right? I wouldn't want to find one of them – or worse, all of them – looming over me during the night, intent on eliminating a threat to their Chase, you know. I kind of like _living_."

"You didn't seem that much concerned when you first learned that they were Courting me," Harry said cautiously. Was this some special stage of Courting that he didn't understand? He should really brush up on his understanding of all these Courting rituals.

Ron coughed, "Are you serious? The public declaration they had with you was reported all over the Daily Prophet – I'm sure they meant to do so too! That means they are staking a Courting Claim over you in front of every witch and wizard that's supposed to have seen or heard of the Daily Prophet… so that means that you are under their family's protection, and most importantly, off the market – any excessive contact by an outsider is going to warrant a violent reaction from your suitors. The Chase has formally started – Malfoy growling at me is the least of my concerns if I dared to even wink at you now…"

Harry stared blankly at him. He knew that Draco, Lucius and Severus insisted that the declaration should be done at the earliest possible timing, but wasn't that because it meant that they didn't need to hide their relationship anymore?

Ron apparently understood his blank and confused look, and sighed. "It was still fine if we chose to give you a friendly hug or a pat on the back even though we knew they were Courting you earlier, since they hadn't declared a Courting claim on you just yet; but now… it's like you have their names stamped across you, and we'd be poaching if we tried to do anything more intimate than just talk – well, flirting is out of bounds too. If they were just normal wizards, it wouldn't be as bad, but since they are magical creatures well-known for their mate-guarding efforts – which means maiming and killing… you get the idea."

"And the Chase?" Harry questioned.

Ron stared at him unbelievingly, "I thought you read the books Hermione gave you on the Courting rituals? Bloody hell, this is going to be weird… The Chase comes after the initial Courting, so it's the time when they'll spend most of their time sticking around you and pampering you, and all sorts of other things they think is necessary to prove their – well, worth to you. Erm… I don't know how to put it, but basically both you and your suitors will be driven to want to mate –um, bond soon."

Harry nodded, well, he guessed that this was what Godric and Salazar was actually referring to when they talked about the Courting; it was just that he didn't imagine it to be so… _intense_. Though he didn't forget to give Ron a teasing look, "And you know all about this Courting stuff so well because…?"

Ron flushed, "Everyone brought up in the wizarding world have heard countless stories about the romantic Courting rituals, okay? It's not as if I secretly wished to be swept off my feet by some magical creature or mysterious witch or wizard! I like Hermione, and that's all!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Ron's embarrassed muttering – he'd never pictured Ron as someone concerned about romance and fantasies… But oh well, every guy can have his secret fantasies, right?

A pair of arms wound around his waist as a warm body came up against him from the back, a tongue licked the top of the shell of his ear as Draco nuzzled him, "I've missed you, has anyone given you trouble since we got back?"

Ignoring the fact that they hadn't parted for more than ten minutes since they returned, and ignoring the fact that he had yet to meet any of his other friends or housemates (or anyone from school, for that matter), Harry shook his head. Noticing that Ron had quietly slipped away, he asked, "Where's Lucius and Severus?"

Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry's face, murmuring softly, "They went to talk to McGonagall and Dumbledore about the arrangements for your assessments. They'll meet us later after dinner."

Harry hummed in agreement, and was just about to return a light kiss on Draco's cheek when Michael Corner appeared in front of them.

"So it's true, then?"

"What?" Harry turned to look at him; he didn't come into much contact with Michael Corner this year, he only knew that Ginny seemed to have broken up with him.

"That you're a faggot, shamelessly associating with Dark Wizards," Corner sneered. Even though the Wizarding community in general accepted homosexuality as part of normal relationships, there were always the few people – or families – that felt that it was unnatural, and of course, quite a number of muggleborns as well. "I thought you were queer, but I never would have thought that the Golden Boy of Gryffindor would stoop to such levels…"

Draco's snarl stopped him in mid-sentence, and Harry could see his facial features morphing between his usual human face and the Veela's bird-like features – usually that meant that Draco was losing his temper _and_ his Veela instincts were running wild, as he had just learned when one of the howlers came through the Manor wards after the declaration.

He didn't want to make a scene right out at the Great Hall here, it would only gather more negative attention on their relationship than already present, but it was almost impossible to stop Draco from lashing out at the person who was questioning his Chosen and their Chase.

Neville came just in time, "And you have an issue with that, Corner?"

Throwing him a grateful look, Harry turned in Draco's embrace and stroked his temples soothingly, coaxing the feathers appearing on the side of his face to retract, and whispering reassurances to the Veela that he wasn't hurt by that comment and there was no need for Draco to get angry.

Neville eyed Corner with a tinge of anger colouring his gaze, his heightened magical aura flaring at the boy who showed no signs of backing down. Neville narrowed his eyes, "I am asking you a question, Corner. You have a problem with Harry's relationship with them?"

Corner glared at them and scowled, "I wasn't talking to you, Longbottom! Or is the Chosen One too precious and weak to talk for himself? Since he's perfectly content to lay back and let the Slytherins rule over him…"

Neville's lips tightened, "I will warn you only once, Corner, _back off_. Their relationship is none of your business, and I am free to defend my friend, which you obviously do not understand since you either don't have one, or are too selfish to care about yours."

"What did you just say?" Corner's face reddened in anger as he drew his wand and pointed it at Neville, "You are no better than Potter over there! You're all good-for-nothings who can't even tell the right thing from the wrong – Slytherin sympathisers! They are all Dark Wizards, Death Eaters! And you would condemn the rest of us to be subjected to their evil? Perhaps it would be better if You-Know-Who had gotten rid of you all – then we might have a better Chosen One to protect us, a true and honourable Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff!"

A brief flash of anger streaked across Neville's face, he threw a look at the approaching group of Sixth Year Slytherins not to interfere and stared at Corner. "I've warned you, Corner. You're exhausting my patience."

Corner opened his mouth to retort when his eyes were captured by Neville's gaze. The normally warm hazel eyes transformed into pitch black, an infinite darkness that seemed to draw one's soul in. Corner stared, and whatever he saw in those eyes froze him momentarily, and he let out a wail and a broken whimper before staggering off towards the Ravenclaw table.

Pansy raised a questioning brow, "What did you do to him, Longbottom? I don't think I've ever seen Corner so fearful ever."

Neville just shrugged and smiled as friendly as ever. Harry grinned inwardly, ever since Morrigan Chose him, Neville was exhibiting more and more Slytherin tendencies than ever, and of course it helped a lot that he was picking up speech habits and some personality traits from Morrigan in his dreams when she mentored him on her gifts to him. Although he was always the same nice old Neville when he was with friends and family.

He didn't know of the other gifts Neville possessed, but this particular one he knew. Neville had used it once during their trip to the Vampire Coven when the younger vampires were too unruly and the Elders made no attempt to stop them. When they gazed into those eyes, they saw nothing but darkness, and their greatest, deepest fear, showing them a fate they could not escape from no matter how hard they tried. It reflected their vulnerability, their deepest desires, and the ugliest side of themselves that they too couldn't bear to face. But there were restrictions – it would only work when the person meant harm; or Neville would suffer Morrigan's rage for abusing her gifts in an unjust punishment.

Though personally Harry felt that Neville was a little harsh towards Corner today – he was usually the last to have an anger outburst amongst all of them… Draco cooed soothingly at Harry as his back was gently stroked by Harry's deft fingers, he'll let that idiot Corner off this once, but he couldn't guarantee what his father and Uncle Severus would do once they heard of this incident – well, Harry needn't know about it, anyway.

Harry smiled at the continuous cooing directed towards him, and turned to look at Neville, "Something on your mind, Neville? I know that Corner was irritating, but I didn't think that it was bad enough to make you so angry…"

"What?" Neville paused for a moment, then sighed wearily, "I- I guess I'm just a bit frustrated, I did it without thinking."

"No harm done, since the magic didn't recoil, Morrigan must have approved," In fact, he believed that Morrigan is itching to punish all those who dare threaten her Choice, she was really a dedicated patron – the magical outburst at the Coven was proof enough –, Harry tilted his head contemplatively, "Is Elder Moonlit still harassing you? Do you need me – or Severus – to call him off?"

"It's fine, I guess," Neville shrugged tiredly, "I just wished that he wouldn't send letters twice or thrice a day, I'm sick of his ravens stalking me all day long."

Elder Alexius Moonlit was the youngest Elder in the Coven (although their youngest was apparently more than 400 years old), and seemed to be captivated by Neville's personality as well as his skills with the Rose Garden – which incidentally was the Moonlit Castle's ancestral defence – and has since started a heated pursuit to gain Neville's favour.

Harry frowned, even if he enjoyed watching the Elder's pursuit ramming into a wall each time –metaphorically speaking, of course– he didn't thought it would affect his friend so much. "I'll have a word with Lord Noctius, and see if he can't control his ex-apprentice."

"Thanks, Harry," Neville sighed in relief.

Draco finally shifted his attention momentarily from Harry to Neville, "Do you really not like him, Longbottom? According to the tales I've been hearing of him, he seems decent enough as a lover or companion."

Severus was the only one of the three of them to have accompanied Harry to the Coven, but that didn't stop the Malfoys from getting accounts of the meeting and the vampires involved. And the stories of how Longbottom actually halted the vampires from attacking them with a simple long stare and a magical outburst really earned their respect.

Neville scrunched his face, "He is quite nice, yes, maybe if only he could have less stalker-ish tendencies? Try waking up to a raven holding a missive staring in your face every morning even if you lock all your windows at night, and another two ravens circling around you throughout your day- look, here they are, _again_."

As soon as he spoke, two ravens swooped through the windows in the Great Hall and flew towards them, one hovering around Neville and the other perching on his shoulder comfortably. He petted them absentmindedly and sighed – at the rate he was sighing these days, he's definitely going to age prematurely.

The Slytherins watching the entire exchange muffled their laughter as the two ravens preened, although they didn't understand the finer aspects of the dialogue between the two Gryffindors, they could tell that the ravens were signs of Courting Intents, a dark sort but still, Courting Intents.

Harry stared at Draco confusedly as his Veela suitor let out an amused laugh, "What's so funny?"

"Kitten, those ravens are no stalker or messenger," Draco nuzzled his neck, "Those are shadow guardians, a form of Courting Intent drawn from dark magic, that is designed to offer affection and protection to one's Intended. The reason they follow him around all day is because they are his protectors, and it gets him used to the suitor's magical signature… And the fact that he's not rejecting them means that he is receptive to the suitor's advances."

"Didn't he just complain about them?"

"He did, but he's petting and offering affection to the guardians, which means that he might find it overwhelming but not repulsive or irritating, at least that's what the Courting magic would assume," Draco smirked, "He should stop his petting and talking to them if he doesn't intend to agree to the Chase."

Harry couldn't help but grin but was still a little confused, "But I thought Neville knew about Courting rituals…"

"He probably knows the normal ones, but not the darker kinds – this is specific to vampires and their darker kinsmen," Draco explained. "So should we inform him of that, or let it be? I do think that this entire thing is quite entertaining though."

Harry glared at him half-heartedly, as much as he would like to see his friends find someone special, he wouldn't want them to fall into it unknowingly.

"Hey Nev," Harry started, "Draco said those ravens are Courting Intents."

"Oh, Courting Int- what?!" Neville spluttered, his hand immediately withdrawing from the ravens, and stared at them disbelievingly. "What did you just say?"

Harry quickly hid a grin, "Draco seems to think –and I'm sure those few giggling at the side there think so too– that the ravens are some sort of Courting Intents borne from vampiric magic, and you allowing them to stay around means that you're going to accept his Intents."

"What- I never- this is-," Neville looked around helplessly and stared at the two ravens horrified, "I didn't mean to- I didn't know-"

"Calm down, Neville," Harry took pity on him, at least his own Courting experience wasn't as abrupt as this – should he be thankful that his suitors chose normal Courting methods? "Maybe you should write a letter to him, so that he understands what you think about this whole- affair?"

"I- I- Okay, I'll do that," Neville nodded blankly and walked off towards the Gryffindor table, apparently still in shock.

"Poor thing, he really didn't know?" Daphne's tone was sympathetic but the soft smile on her lips was quite telling of her true feelings on the issue. "But Longbottom really deserves to have someone nice for him, he has helped all of us quite a fair amount."

"True, but you can't deny that it was too amusing when he was flustering," Blaise grinned.

"I'll make sure to tell him you said that," Pansy commented lightly, "Then we'll see whose reaction is more amusing."

"Dearest Pansy, you can't do that! I need him for my Herbology and Transfiguration!" Blaise whined, "Well, maybe Harry can help me with Transfiguration, but you know he's hopeless at Herbology!"

"And I'm right here," Harry muttered. "So I can assume you don't need my help in Charms and Defence anymore, right?"

"Oh no, my dear Harry, you can't leave me to fail!" Blaise pounced at him, only to be pushed away by Draco forcefully. "Don't challenge my self-control, Blaise, you sounded suspiciously like you were going to poach my Intended, and my claws are aching to extend now."

"By Salazar I never intended to do that, it's just a figure of speech, Draco!"

The other Slytherins had absolutely no sympathy for him and roared in laughter.

* * *

 

Harry's day went on relatively smoothly after that. Just a few howlers came through in the morning, which were burned promptly before they even started screeching; a few snide comments and sideway glances from his peers, though he suspected more were stopped by the glares and silent threats from his three suitors; Severus leaning too close during their Potion class, as well as Lucius lingering far too often around his seat during Defence class, both of which were restrained when he reminded them that their relationship was to remain professional in the classroom as per the school rules – the day was just fine.

He allowed Draco to drag him towards Lucius' chambers after dinner, where he was met with passionate kisses from both of his older suitors to compensate for their lack of contact throughout the day. He curled up on the sofa between Severus and Lucius, while Draco sat on the floor and laid his head on Harry' lap.

"So how was your day, love?" Lucius threaded his fingers through Harry's hair, he rather enjoyed the feeling of those silky locks flowing through his fingers. "No trouble from your schoolmates, I hope?"

Harry shook his head and buried his face against Lucius' chest, rubbing his cheek affectionately against the man. "I sort of suspected that your reputations prevented more people from staring at me."

"Who stared?" Severus took Harry's hand into his own, and frowned as he looked at the silvery scar across the back of Harry's hand – perhaps he should change some of the ingredients in the healing salve to make it actually remove the cursed scar?

Harry looked at him and sighed, trust them to pick up the wrong point, "I can deal with a few stares and sideway glances, Severus, I was just trying to make a joke there. It's probably natural that people look, after all I have been the main target of gossips even since I was dubbed the Boy-Who-Lived anyway."

Lucius petted his head, "Still, they should not stare, that is impolite."

"Lucius, that's a natural reaction for people, you can't blame them," Harry smiled reassuringly, and gave them both Severus and Lucius a light peck on their cheeks – some mild exasperation aside, their overprotectiveness was, most of the time, quite endearing.

Kissing a pouting Draco on the forehead as well –to keep the young self-believed-to-be-neglected Veela contented– Harry snuggled back into the sides of Lucius and Severus once more.

After moments of comfortable silence, Harry spoke again. "Do you remember the time when my familiars were attacked? The time when I first told you all about the Sanctuary?"

They nodded. They would never be able to erase that horrific scene from their minds – Harry covered in blood and writhing in agony, the pained gasps that signified life bleeding out of the young body, and the fear that he might die right at the moment. It was a scene they would never want to relive again.

"The attack happened on school grounds, and considering that Hogwarts told me that her wards did not allow any outsider to pass through before and after the attack, the culprit must be someone from school… but I couldn't trace the magical signature from the tracking spell in school. At first I thought it was just because my magic hadn't recovered fully from the attack, then later when I performed more tracking spells, I still didn't manage to find the person."

The Slytherins frowned. They knew that Hogwarts had a special connection with Harry – probably an effect of Harry being heir to two of Hogwarts' Founders – so she would try to protect Harry to the best of her abilities; thus it was improbable that Harry couldn't trace the attacker in school then.

"We could find out if there were any students missing from school during this period, but that is rather unlikely, I do not recall missing any students in my class," Severus started, "Though of course I would not be able to learn about those who did not continue onto N.E.W.T. level Potions, but I am sure that none of my Slytherins were missing."

Lucius frowned as he tried to recall, "Most Sixth and Seventh Years take Defence, but there were no absentees except for the few who had to be escorted to the infirmary for misspells."

Harry bit his lip worriedly, he had thought that with the tracking spell, it shouldn't have been difficult to track down the one who attacked his familiars and tried to pry into his letters…"I could perform another kind of spell to determine the caster's wand… do you think that would help?"

"I know all the wand types of my Housemates; Father and Uncle Severus could probably keep an eye on the other students' wand?" Draco suggested.

Harry nodded hesitantly, he wasn't able to tell the difference between most wands himself. Neville had once told him that wands were easily discernible because the type of wood used to make them were vastly different, and the magic reverberating from the wands varied based on the type of wand cores; although he did add that only Pureblood children were trained from young to distinguish the different types of magical trees able to be harvested for wand-making – it was all part of their heritage, since most families tend to have affinities for certain wood types or wand cores.

He curled his legs up onto the sofa and crossed them, retrieving his wand from the holster. Murmuring the incantation lowly, he twirled his wand in circling motions, drawing a pattern in mid-air. The shadow of a wand appeared before them.

Draco jerked up from his seat instantly, his voice shocked with disbelief, "No! It cannot be!"

Lucius and Severus had similar grim looks on their faces. Harry looked at them in question, "What is it?"

"No- it can't be- he would never…" Draco looked at him helplessly, "It's- it's Greg's wand."

"What?" Harry stared at him. Despite all rumours of Goyle and Crabbe being idiots who think with their fists rather than mind, Harry learnt that the two of them were actually friendly and easy-going people who had a sarcastic sense of wit but chose to leave the limelight to their peers, keeping silent in the background usually – and he was on quite friendly terms with the both of them, he would never believe that they intended him harm!

He took a closer look at the fading image of the wand, "Wait, wait! Don't you think the image looks kind of wrong?"

His suitors huddled closer and looked searchingly, finally Lucius said, "There seems to be an overlay of something else on the wand."

Harry nodded. "When Godric taught me the spell, Salazar added that wizards do not always use their own wands for casting – sometimes it is stolen, sometimes it might be borrowed or snatched – whatever the case, the wand doesn't match the user most of the time, and that results in a fuzzy image when the spell is cast. Maybe…?"

Draco considered and agreed, "Possible. It's not the first time Greg's left his wand about, or lent it to someone else. I've told him not to do that, but he doesn't seem bothered about it."

"Then we should check with him," Severus decided, "I will summon him before breakfast tomorrow. Lucius, Draco, meet me in my quarters then."

"Wait, what about me?" Harry scrambled onto Severus's lap, frowning at him. "It's about my familiars, after all, you can't possibly leave me out of this!"

Severus looked at Harry for a long while, "Harry, your safety might be compromised. He may not be the culprit, but if- even at the slimmest chance that he might be the one who casted the spells, you should not be placed into a situation that might bring you harm."

"Nowhere's safe at the moment anyway, why bother now?" Harry was a little irritated, he needed to know who attacked his familiars that he pledged to share his life with, in exchange for their loyalty!

"Please, Harry," Severus sighed, and Lucius continued, "It runs against all of our instincts to have you back at Hogwarts, love. If we could have our way, we would have tried to keep you away from the Wizarding World and coddle you in comfort and luxury- but I am certain that you would grow to hate us if we did that… but we have to try to do something to make it better, to better protect you, so that we are not consumed by our Courting instincts. I- I know it must be overbearing, and we do not wish to go against your will, but- can you do this for us, love? It might just be an illusion of your safety, but it would make us feel more capable to protect and defend you…"

"Oh," Harry paused in his protest. He didn't think of it this way – he just assumed that it was like what the Order used to do to him and his friends, keeping him out of their "adult" business, especially since they had never tried to prevent him from dealing with the Sanctuary's allies and enemies before this. But if what Ron said about the declaration was true, combined with what Draco had once told him of when they first started Courting him...

He could see signs of feathers quivering at the sides of Lucius' and Draco's faces, and the shadows dancing wildly in the corner of the room – all indicators that his three suitors were trying very hard to quell their instincts. He already knew that it would be especially hard on them when they returned to school due to all the restrictions, but he wasn't aware that it went that deep.

"I- I'm sorry," Harry sighed and hugged all three of them tightly, "I didn't know… Of course I can do that, if only for your peace of mind. You would tell me what came out of the meeting anyway, I guess…" He definitely needed a crash course on Courting behaviours after a public declaration now – he checked them up after Ron talked about it but those bloody books were so vague and secretive on the topic!

He could feel the three of them relaxing instantaneously and he buried his face into their shoulders, murmuring softly, "I'm sorry for not making this easier for all of you… I'm trying, but there's still so much that I don't know… So help me along the way, tell me what you need of me, what you have to do, what is best for us… I can be stubborn and hardheaded sometimes, but I trust all of you, my _nghariyf_ , my _arw'tyll_ , and my _cydyma'ia_ – I trust that you will keep me safe, and I trust that you will love me – so I'll try to rely more on all of you, well, at least as much as I can handle. Can you accept that? Will you wait for me to learn and give you what you need?" He still couldn't bring himself to completely depend on them for his safety, but if they could try to suppress their instincts for him, there was no reason he couldn't try to increase his reliance on them.

"Of course, love," Lucius kissed him on the top of his head, "You need not ask, this is something that we would willingly do for you. Though I do hope that the wait would not be… too extended, I find my self-restraint growing slimmer every moment – or perhaps it is you, love, growing more and more irresistible by the minute?"

Harry buried his face against Severus' chest, refusing to answer to Lucius' teasing tone, although from the gentle fingers lingering on his earlobes, he knew that Lucius was very clear of the effect of his words on him.

Flustered, Harry covered his ears and glared at Lucius –his easily reddening ears gave his emotions away too easily, he definitely needed to find a way to stop his ears from doing that anymore– and muttering somewhat petulantly, "Stop it, Lucius, it's embarrassing…"

He heard Severus chuckle over the top of his head, long fingers caressing his cheeks, "This is not supposed to be embarrassing, Harry."

Draco agreed, "Why would it be embarrassing when all Father said is the truth? Malfoys never give compliments without sufficient reason, so you'll just have to take it in stride, Harry, just like we all do."

"Bloody Malfoys and their overblown egos…" Harry continued to mutter, "Not everyone has their pride the size of a puffed-up peacock…"

Draco gave him a mock horrified stare, "Now, take that back, Harry, we are nothing like those mindless birds strutting around and doing nothing else!"

Harry stuck his tongue out at him, "Never! In case you never noticed, Draco, you are always strutting around like you own the entire school! Not to mention all those peacocks you have at the Manor only makes you look more like a peacock…"

Severus ruffled Harry's hair and added, "Technically speaking, the nature of a Veela is indeed similar to that of their avian cousins…"

Lucius only gave them an exasperated look, and indulged Harry in his moment of childishness so often only reserved for their private moments. "Well, at least being a peacock means I look good. Although following this train of thought, Harry, then you will also be one of those peacocks strutting around mindlessly, waiting to be pursued by us."

Harry raised a delicate brow, "Lucius, you and Draco are the ones who look like birds, I'm an Elf."

"Ah yes," Lucius conceded and gave him a serious look, "but since you are allowing us to Court you, this must mean that you would like to be one of us as well."

Draco rolled over in laughter as Harry struggled to find a retort to Lucius' remark, finally huffing when he failed to do so. Lucius simply smiled and held Harry's face tilted up towards him, "Love, you know that pout of yours is absolutely adorable, yes?" And with that, he leant down to kiss Harry before Harry could reply.

Harry shivered as Lucius' tongue swiped across his lips, pressing for entrance, and once he did, Harry was completely swept away by the sweetness of the kiss – his eyes glazed over when he was finally released to get a gulp of much needed air. Lucius rubbed his finger across Harry's nose and chuckled, "You really should start learning to breathe through your nose during a kiss, love."

Harry didn't even get a chance to glare at him before he was overcome by another equally passionate –albeit much more demanding– kiss from Severus, and yet another from Draco. Harry was flushed by the end of it; were these three snakes actually trying to outdo each other?

Lucius merely smiled at Harry's flustered look, conjuring cushions and pillows onto the rug in front of the fireplace, and pulling Harry down to bury themselves in the sea of softness. Harry sighed in contentment as he settled down in the midst of the cushions, surrounded by his suitors, getting into a group cuddle.

Nothing could get better than this, right?


End file.
